


Play

by ellewrites



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Frottage, Good BDSM Etiquette, Hand Feeding, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Use, Past Sexual Abuse, Pegging, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Questionable Legalese, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Sub!Tony, Suspension, gentle dom!Bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-10-01 20:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 81,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20396062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellewrites/pseuds/ellewrites
Summary: Bruce had heard of local lawyer Tony Stark long before that night -- but he wasn't looking for him or anything at all when he finds Tony blindfolded, gagged, and bound up at a local munch party. Yet ever since that night he can think of nothing other than seeing Tony again. The more he gets to know Tony, however, the more he gets to understand both Tony's and his own insecurities. Insecurities that ruined his last two relationships. Insecurities he might not ever be able to overcome...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This began as a one shot and an attempt at Tony getting wrecked. To that end, I couldn’t even have started this had it not been for the immeasurable help of [one_golden_sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_golden_sun). But this fic would not exist in its current state if it weren’t for reading [xYoSa’s](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xYoSa) beautiful fic [Quantum Fidelity Decay](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601497/chapters/41491382). It was an enormous source of inspiration for me and the entire reason I picked this fic back up at all. <3 She also was so incredibly kind to beta this for me and truly, I am so thankful for her support, her thoughts, and her friendship as I wrestled through this. Also a big thanks to my girlfriend as per usual for offering me plenty of encouragement when I needed it most. <3 I am so lucky to have all the best people in my life.

The dance floor was a tangled mess of limbs and lips and sweat. Bruce could feel the pounding of the bass in his chest, deafening him, heightening the sensation of skin on skin. The room was small, smaller than a traditional club, tucked away in the basement of an events facility that was glad to host parties like this on nights they didn't have other engagements. The bar wasn't even in the same room at the dance floor but then Bruce didn't come for the alcohol. He never did.

He was pleasantly sandwiched between a woman with dark hair braided down her back and her partner, a man who was a little taller than him with no shirt and leather pants. Bruce knew if he wanted it, he could have it – the man’s hands were on his hips, on his chest, slipping between the buttons on his shirt and her mouth was on his, kissing him senseless. But it had been a while since Bruce had been to a party like this and truthfully he wasn’t sure what he was looking for or what he wanted or if he wanted anything at all – he just knew that he missed it. 

Bruce pulled back from her lips – kind of smiled, kind of shook his head, kind of an apology – and she looked up at her partner and his hands loosened on Bruce’s body, letting him go. It was okay – he didn’t want to waste their time when he couldn’t commit to it – but he found the memory of them lingering on his skin as he slid along people, trying to get a breath away from the intoxicating feeling of touch. 

The air was cooler in the foyer, less damp, and it was easier to be anonymous and slip by without notice along the walls. He bought a beer at the bar and took a few swigs to ground himself. It was easy to get overwhelmed. Especially for someone who had spent his childhood and consequently most of his life cut off from other people, unloved, untouched. But Bruce had been in the scene a long time and he'd done it before and he knew that no matter how kind they might be, going home with an established couple would only devastate him in the morning. 

He took a deep breath and wandered back down the hall where it was quieter, where there were scenes going on, where he might run into something more his style... and if not, that was okay, too. He’d finish his beer, go back to the dance floor for a bit, and then Lyft himself home with his skin tingling and his spirits raised – if only for the night.

It was quieter in the back hallway. Voices floated from the changing room as he passed, the door opening – laughter, mostly. People walked by in fetish gear, a male couple were making out and fondling each other in the hall so intensely it made Bruce half hard to watch and he wanted  _ that  _ more than anything... though it was hard to admit, even to himself. Many of the picture windows on the private rooms were shuttered tonight, allowing their occupants privacy. But then Bruce caught a glimpse of something that stopped him dead in his tracks and he couldn’t help but stare. 

The man was blindfolded and gagged and bent over a stool that was nothing more than a steel box frame with two thick bands of leather stretched across it to form a seat. His arms were tied up in an elaborate dragonfly shibari and even though he was otherwise free, because of that and his bent over position on the stool he was completely restrained. He was put on a dais to give him enough height to get fucked, his knees near the edge of it, his feet hanging over the edge and his hands were balled into fists, his hips working to create some kind of friction that was impossible to find for his swollen dick as he was aggressively pegged by a beautiful, freckled, strawberry-blonde woman in a catsuit.

And he was gorgeous. His body, anyway, what Bruce could see of it – muscles straining against the tension of the rope, thighs tight, pretty lips slick with spit, jaw working against the black bit gag and – 

Fuck if Bruce didn’t want  _ that _ . 

“Hey.” 

Bruce jumped a bit, startled, looking over to his left where another man fully dressed in regular clothes stood in the doorframe, watching him. 

“What’s your deal?” 

“I...” Bruce stumbled, looking at him then back to the scene, then back at him. The blinds were open, it shouldn’t have been a problem, he didn’t – 

“It’s okay to watch,” the man continued, clearly trying to put him at ease and pretty much failing. “You’re Bruce, right?” 

“I – uh, yeah,” he replied, feeling even more uncomfortable than before, unsure whether he had met this man before or not. 

“I’m acquaintances with Natasha,” he explained. “We met a couple times in passing. Name’s Rhodes.”

“I... yeah, I think I remember,” Bruce answered, seeming familiar now, but it was difficult because Natasha had been far more connected than Bruce ever was and she’d introduced him to so many people when they had been together.

“Do you want in?” 

Bruce blinked at him, confused. 

“On that?” Bruce asked, gesturing vaguely to the window and feeling weird about it.

“Yeah,” Rhodes replied, thumbing his jaw. “He’s almost done but – I think he’d appreciate one more.” 

Again Bruce was at a loss for words.  _ Yeah _ , he wanted that. That man was  _ gorgeous _ . And the way he was displayed like that? It made him uncomfortably hard. But he didn’t –

“It’s his birthday,” Rhodes continued after a moment, “and he wanted to get topped by a few different people. People he didn’t know. But he has some conditions. That’s what I’m for.” 

“Are you his –” Bruce hesitated. 

“Dom?” Rhodes asked with a laugh. “No. We’re just friends. But I have his best interests at heart and I won’t let him get hurt.” 

“Okay,” Bruce agreed, starting to warm up to the idea, even with Rhodes' veiled warning. It wasn’t what he would consider a common scene but then it made sense, too. He could see the appeal. 

“How many of those have you had?” Rhodes asked, looking at the plastic cup and Bruce shrugged. 

“Just this one.” 

The woman with red hair walked out then, sweeping her bangs from her sweaty forehead and leaning in to give Rhodes a kiss on the cheek as she left. She said something to him, low, so that Bruce couldn’t hear it, and he answered with an amused grin. But she was gone in a moment and the man in the room was left there, waiting, his body hanging on the stool like he could hardly hold himself up any longer. 

Rhodes motioned for him to come closer and he did, tearing his eyes away from the scene, adrenaline born from unexpected opportunity pulsing through his veins as he stepped up to the door. 

“Absolutely no choking,” Rhodes started and Bruce met his eyes and nodded, not wanting to be denied entry now that he’d been cursorily approved. “Nothing that’s going to break skin or even bruise if it’s somewhere obvious – this is Tony Stark, after all, treat him with some respect, yeah?” 

Bruce swallowed then, and hard. Everyone  _ knew _ Tony Stark – he was a relatively well known lawyer who’d donated quite a bit of money to the local munch. In fact, he was probably the reason they were able to afford this facility as often as they could. But still – he felt the weight of a responsibility he didn’t have before on his chest and Bruce wasn’t sure at all if that didn’t make the whole scene more enticing to him. 

“Don’t use his name,” Rhodes continued. “No degrading sex talk – he probably wouldn’t care, but that’s  _ my _ rule. He gets enough of that shit at work.”

“Got it,” Bruce said, mouth feeling dry, palms sweaty. 

“Here.” Rhodes handed him a condom. “There’s more in there plus shears for the ropes as well as lube – you know the drill, you’ve done this before, just don’t be a dick.” Bruce nodded as he wasn’t wrong and he had no intention of abusing the trust Tony was placing in his partners tonight. “Let me give him some water before you go in.”

“C-can I?” Bruce offered quickly, stumbling over it a bit, and Rhodes turned to look at him quizzically. “I’d like to.” 

“I don’t see why not,” Rhodes replied, grabbing a bottle of water from the end table sitting inside the door and trading it for Bruce’s beer. “I’ll get involved if I have to,” he finished as Bruce stepped inside and he nodded his assent to the threat, knowing it wouldn't be necessary. 

There was some kind of low house music playing, the bass thumping through the floorboards, which Bruce hadn’t noticed before. But it was low enough to talk over and it only set the mood. Up close Bruce could tell Tony’s whole body was soaked with sweat, his cock dripping onto the dais, cinched off with a quick release cock ring. A shock of need went straight through to Bruce’s gut to see the other man displayed so open and so needy and it was all he could do not to touch himself. 

Instead he unfastened the gag, biting his own lip at the pretty marks the leather strap that fastened it had made in Tony’s cheeks. 

“Rhodey,” he started, his voice sounding rough, and Bruce shushed him, letting him know it wasn’t his friend. 

“Water?” he asked and Tony nodded though Bruce could tell he was caught off guard. “It’s okay, Rhodes said it was okay.” 

That seemed to appease him enough to relax a little and Bruce tilted the water bottle to his lips, careful not to choke him, watching the way his long throat swallowed and wishing it was his dick. 

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked when he’d finished, not knowing how long he’d been tied up there, wanting explicit consent. 

“Yeah, I just – I don’t know how much more...” he admitted, biting the inside of his cheeks and Bruce ran his fingers through Tony's sweaty hair, pulling at the ends of it as Tony leaned into the pull. 

“Maybe one more?” he asked, falling back into a role that was familiar, almost second nature now. 

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, continuing to seek out his touch but Bruce drew away his hand. “One more.” 

“I know it’s going to be difficult, so what will you say if you want me to stop?” Bruce asked, his voice strong and calm and confident, wanting to lend Tony that strength.

“Nova.”

“Hmm – nova. And – can I kiss you?” Bruce asked, squatting down to get on his level on the low table he was positioned on. 

Tony nodded, mouth still parted, sore from the gag, and Bruce leaned in and bit at his tender lips, causing him to cry out, but dialing it back as he did so it wasn’t too intense. It only took a moment before Tony was panting into his kiss, teeth and tongue trying to pull him closer since he had nothing else, no other way to bring Bruce near, incapacitated by rope and needing the physical contact by this point. But he would have to wait a little longer.

“I want to hear it when you cum,” Bruce whispered and Tony moaned against his lips, a needy, desperate thing that made Bruce’s balls tighten reflexively. 

“ _ Please _ ,” Tony begged and Bruce kissed him again, thoroughly, one last time for good measure before standing. 

Although he couldn’t see it Bruce unzipped his pants in Tony’s face, pulling out his dick and sliding the condom on. 

“You’ve had that gag on all night,” Bruce commented, running his hand down Tony’s head once more before grabbing as much of his hair as he could and impaling him on his dick. 

Tony was startled but he took it in stride, swallowing around him like a pro and immediately making it way too intense. As punishment for the unexpected mouthful, Bruce wasn’t sure, but whatever he was doing with his tongue and the suction felt  _ incredible _ considering he was wearing a condom and he knew he wouldn’t last long if he let Tony continue. 

His fist tightened in Tony's hair and Tony stopped, smiling around his dick in a way Bruce could swear looked guilty even despite the blindfold and he growled. Slowly he moved his hips back and forth, forcing the pace, showing Tony who was boss here. 

“Good,” Bruce murmured, loosening his grip on Tony's hair as a reward, running his fingers through it again, twisting his fingers in it more loosely but still maintaining control. “That's good.”

Saliva was dripping down his balls and Tony was whining despite himself before Bruce finally let up, releasing his hair and pulling out, giving himself a moment to appreciate Tony's swollen lips, mouth hanging open, panting. He let his fingertips trail across Tony’s face, down the side of his throat, continuing across the ropes on his arms, down his side, making him squirm. Bruce could feel how his skin prickled beneath his touch and he loved it, running his fingers back up his skin again just to feel it. 

When Bruce reached his ass he took a moment to study how Tony looked – the beautiful parallelism on the shibari, the tension in his legs and the fatigue in his shoulders, the way his balls hung, the way his ass had been spanked raw. He glanced at the table to the side, noting the lube, the shears, the few toys there, and then looked back to Tony. With inquisitive hands Bruce reached between Tony’s legs, feeling his dick, slicking his own precum back down the shaft and across his balls, beneath them, stroking hard with his thumb across Tony's prostate from the outside, trying to maintain any sense of composure at the strangled sound Tony made, desperate – like he was going to start crying soon, like he was on the edge. 

“Soon,” Bruce promised, running his hands over the red marks on his ass, massaging it, feeling Tony breathe deeply, trying to compose himself as well. 

“Tell me if it's too much,” Bruce said earnestly, loud enough to be heard over the music and Tony nodded.

Tony took the first hit easy. Bruce had cupped his hand, didn’t want it to sting, wasn’t sure how many people had been there before him and wasn’t sure at this point in the night that if he’d asked, Tony would know either. On the fourth, Tony couldn’t help but cry out and it made Bruce grin. 

He was deliberate, rhythmic, and each spank was answered with a grunt or a groan or a cry until Tony was physically shaking and Bruce stopped, running his hands down his thighs, feeling them shake, kissing at his hips. Sure that Tony was exhausted, he decided to stop playing and he ran his hands back up his thighs, stroking his dick slowly with one hand as the other moved up his chest, feeling his muscle definition, how hard his nipples were with anticipation. 

“Okay,” Bruce said as he stood back up, momentarily abandoning him to grab the lube and run it up his own cock. “Are you ready to cum for me?” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Tony gasped and Bruce gripped his own dick tight in his hand as he did, loving the way it sounded, so desperate, and even though they didn’t know each other, had never met, it felt like Tony needed  _ him _ . 

Although he was sure Tony had been prepped long before him, he teased him with lubed fingers, listening to the little moans he tried not to make as his legs still shook a little with fatigue. 

“I want to hear you when you cum,” Bruce reminded him as he slipped his fingers out, pushing down his own pants a little lower on his hips. But he paused a moment, leaning over the table as far as he could, almost to Tony’s shoulder. “You sound beautiful.” 

Tony swallowed, clearly uncomfortable with that compliment, and since he couldn’t see his eyes beneath the blindfold Bruce watched his throat before turning into his arm, kissing at the exposed flesh between the ropes. He was sure at some point Tony had been taught not to be mouthy, that it would only prolong the wait, but Bruce never liked that. He always wanted his partner’s affirmation. 

When Bruce stood again he finally allowed himself to slide inside and he groaned in appreciation. It seemed like forever since the last time he'd had sex and his fingers locked themselves around Tony’s hips, feeling the way his abs trembled, how physically exhausted he was. Bruce had played games like this before – waiting games, games that took forever. He was glad to be able to give Tony an ending. His heart pounded with it. 

After a moment he began to move, helping support Tony as he drew back slowly and slammed back in hard. Tony’s head fell forward and his shoulders heaved with each breath and Bruce tried in vain to take his mind away from how unbelievably sexy Tony looked, how good Tony felt, how much he had needed this without even really knowing that this was what he needed. And Bruce didn’t know why Tony put himself in this scene, but even in a lust-induced haze he wanted to give Tony what he needed, too. Nat had always said his heart was his biggest character flaw. 

His right hand slid down and gripped Tony’s balls, thumb and forefinger locking around the base of his cock, right next to the ring, and he drug Tony forward on his dick every time he slammed in. Tony’s fingers were biting into his palms and Bruce watched the way sweat shimmered across his back and forearms in the low light and he was moaning one long continuous note as if he was so delirious it was all he could do and it was driving Bruce crazy but he wanted more. 

“What do you want?” Bruce growled through clenched teeth and Tony just shook his head as if unable to respond. 

It wasn’t good enough. 

Bruce removed his hand and smacked Tony’s ass hard so that he couldn’t help but yelp. 

“Do you want to cum or not?” Bruce asked again, a threat he would never follow through on but it got the reaction he wanted. 

“Yes, oh god,  _ please _ ,” Tony begged as Bruce tightened his hand back around his cock, thick with need, precum dripping down Bruce’s fingers. “Please –  _ please _ .”

“Not until I say, okay?” 

It sounded like Tony was crying, or maybe he was going to. His voice cracked as he tried to speak and he had to start over and it was all Bruce could do not to cum himself when he heard it. 

“Please –  _ fuck _ , just –  _ please _ ,” Tony pleaded with a strangled cry as Bruce stroked down his shaft in one slow firm motion, bringing him in close as he slid deep into him. “Holy –  _ fucking _ ... I – I can’t – I can’t –”

“Not yet,” Bruce ground out, breathing heavy, sweat dripping down the small of his back in the little room that was suddenly too humid, overwhelming him with the smell of sweat and lube and sex, echoing with the beat of the music and Tony’s pleas and it was too much, too hard to keep track of his rhythm and Tony wasn’t the only one who wasn’t going to last long. 

“Goddamn just –  _ please _ !” Tony continued, like Bruce had broken some dam and he couldn’t stop himself now, words were just pouring out. “I can’t – I can’t stop it. I – I’m gonna – I –  _ p _ - _ please _ ...!”

Bruce could feel Tony’s muscles clenching around him, knowing there was really only so much a cockring could do, and while Tony could try to stop it, it had been so long, there was no way, not now, and fuck if Bruce could handle much more of Tony literally begging without giving in himself and his pace was falling apart anyway and so he reached his other hand down to Tony’s balls, pulling the release on the ring, giving him the freedom he had earned. 

“Cum for me,” he commanded, right hand speeding up on Tony’s shaft to help him off. “Cum baby, come on.” 

The strangled cry of ecstasy and hysterical relief Tony made as he shot cum across the table was more than enough to get Bruce off too, but his whole body shut down around him and Bruce could hardly breathe, could hardly move as he came inside Tony, trying hard not to let his knees sag, to remain upright, not to drag Tony down with him. 

He couldn’t pull out right away but he grabbed for the shears that were just within his reach as soon as he was lucid enough to realize that Tony’s whole body was shaking, badly, and that he was crying. Not that that was uncommon or even unexpected but he cut the ropes from his arms as quickly as possible, able to slide out when he was done and pull the other man upright and into a sitting position on the table. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered softly, removing the blindfold and holding him to his chest, stroking his hair, planting his lips on the top of his head as he talked. “You were perfect, amazing. Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” 

Tony had buried his face in Bruce’s chest and he shook his head against it, reaching for his face to wipe at his tears. 

“I'm okay,” he replied with a shuddering breath. “It – it was just... so much.” 

Bruce chuckled and held him closer. “I'm sure.”

“Will you stay with me awhile?” Tony asked, seeming shy – which was kind of endearing given the exhibitionist streak he clearly had.

“Of course,” Bruce started to reply when the music was turned down dramatically and Rhodes suddenly swooped in with water and a blanket, looking quite intimidating. 

“Hey buddy,” he greeted, settling the blanket across Tony’s shoulders and rubbing his back. “I'm here.” 

Tony sighed into the touch, clearly relaxing at the presence of his friend – but still he kept his head buried in Bruce's chest. Bruce wasn't sure what to do, he'd never had anyone try to co-opt his aftercare before.

“I've got it from here,” Rhodes told him, looking over Tony in a strangely possessive way.

Bruce opened his mouth to say something – he didn't know what, but something – except then Tony spoke. 

“I  _ like _ this one,” Tony said, shifting his head to look at Rhodes and they shared some eye contact that apparently meant something because immediately his body language changed. 

“Let Tony get dressed and then meet us in the lounge,” Rhodes directed and Bruce just nodded, feeling uncomfortable with letting Tony go but appeased by the promise of seeing him again.

Bruce watched them go as he zipped up his pants and tucked back in his shirt. He cleaned up the room a bit, throwing away rope and using Clorox to wipe down the dias, wondering what just happened, wondering if they’d really be there when he left.

It was weird. Bruce tried to shrug off the feeling, tried to attribute it to the fact that this was the first time he’d had sex since Natasha... But it was like he could feel the weight of Tony against his chest and he wanted more, hadn’t wanted it to end this way. It wasn’t like Bruce knew him, obviously, but then – something that intimate? Listening to him beg, listening to him cum? Maybe he did. 

Bruce walked out – oblivious now to the couples around him, the other rooms, oblivious to the music and the smiles of passersby as he got closer to the front. Before heading back to the lounge he picked up a deli sandwich wrapped in plastic from the catered buffet across from the bar, figuring that Tony had to be famished. Although as he went to find them he felt kind of silly – it seemed Rhodes had considered everything. Surely he had considered this too.

For a moment he didn’t see them and the sense of loss he felt was ridiculous but immense – until he realized that he’d simply overlooked them in the brighter light. In fact, it was the first time he’d really gotten a good look at Tony’s face. He was tucked up against Rhodes on a tacky velvet chaise and Rhodes had his arm around his shoulder, his lips pressed to his temple, talking low – but when he noticed Bruce across the room, a slow smile spread across his handsome face that had Bruce’s stupid heart pounding and he knew he was fucked. It was just like with Betty, just like with Natasha – that first smile and he was gone. 

Each step closer and he noticed something else. The set of Tony’s jaw, his thin dark lips, the musculature of his neck, those big brown eyes... By the time he sat down next to him he was rendered speechless by how beautiful Tony really was. 

But any shyness he might have felt was eclipsed by Tony’s total and immediate acceptance of him as he turned towards Bruce, wide eyes studying his face as well, the curve of his lip hopefully indicating that he liked what he saw. 

“You brought me a sandwich?” Tony asked, reaching to take it as Bruce tried to laugh. 

“Sure,” he shrugged as Tony unwrapped it, looking back at Rhodes and sharing another one of their looks. 

But it was only a moment and then he was turning back to Bruce, leaning in to kiss him, immediately dissipating the lingering awkwardness between them as Bruce kissed him back, gently, more lips than anything else. Lips and the occasional peek of tongue and his fingers through Tony’s hair. And when he pulled back he was smiling. His face was still a little raw from crying but his smile was something else.

“Can I...?” he asked but didn't bother to finish the sentence before gingerly climbing into Bruce's lap.

Physically they were a pretty even match in height and weight so it was a little awkward and ridiculous to have some hundred and seventy pounds of man curled up in his lap but Bruce just chuckled and held him, one arm around his shoulders and the other across his knees as he happily ate his offered sandwich and Rhodes gave him a protective look before strolling away – though Bruce doubted he was going very far.

“You were wonderful,” Bruce murmured against his forehead as he held him, his thumb rubbing across his shoulder slowly. “Truly, perfect.”

Compliments were something that Bruce typically found difficult to express. Even at work he'd want to compliment the young kids, give them some positive feedback for their excited discoveries, and he'd find himself choking on his own tongue, relegating such things to margin notes on essays and tersely worded emails. But here it was different, and even though he struggled, he loved being able to freely say these things to a stranger after a scene and know it was what they needed. What they  _ both _ needed.

Tony tucked his head up under his chin when he was done eating, sighing out his contentment, wrapping his arms around Bruce like he had to in order to keep him there. But he didn't.

Bruce kissed the top of his head, feeling him relax completely in his arms, making his whole chest feel kind of funny and floaty. It had been a while since he held someone like this. It wasn't that close, it wasn't that personal, he knew that – it was just the intensity of the scene and Tony needed to be comforted and feel loved but...

So did Bruce. 

He swallowed hard and he hated it, turned his attention back outwards again. Tony was breathing deeply against him and he kissed his forehead again.

“Happy birthday.”

Tony laughed, a flighty, breathy thing that made Bruce feel even more emotionally compromised than he already was. 

“Thirty-four never felt so good,” he joked softly, closing his eyes, and Bruce chuckled. Tony put his hand against his chest, feeling it. “Did Rhodey tell you?” 

“Yeah,” Bruce admitted. 

Tony hummed, then was quiet a moment before saying, “I think a lot of people know, but I’ve never seen you here before. Even though Rhodey said he knew you.” 

“It’s been a while,” Bruce admitted, not really wanting to go into it right then.

But then Tony was leaning back on his arm, looking up at him, his dark eyes seeming cautious and uncertain – but there was also an intensity there that made Bruce want to shy away. He suddenly understood why no one wanted to be on the opposite side of the courtroom from Tony Stark. 

“Do you think I’ll see you again?” 

It was such an innocent question given how much he’d wanted to squirm and Bruce smiled a little, tightening his arm around Tony’s shoulders to reassure him. 

“I’m sure that could be arranged.” 

Tony’s smile made his heart race as he leaned in to kiss him again and there was really nothing Bruce wanted more than to see him again.


	2. Chapter 2

Rhodey had given Bruce Tony’s number before he left, but in the quiet of his little one bedroom loft apartment staring at his cell phone, he couldn’t bring himself to contact him. Tony Stark? Any day of the week he could Google his name and come up with some article talking about a case he took or something his firm was doing and Bruce was just a community college chem professor. It was beyond presumptuous. 

But that didn’t stop him from hoping he’d run into him again. 

It was hard given how connected Nat had been and how everyone wanted to ask about her but still Bruce put out some feelers with their old friends, tried to reestablish himself in the scene a little, get himself invited to parties. At the very least, if he didn’t see Tony again, he might be able to meet someone in his league to help him stop thinking about him.

But when Steve texted him a couple of weeks later that there was going to be a house party at Hammer’s that night, he cringed. The whole thing was going to be awkward as hell – Justin was... not his favorite. He was pretentious and showy and overall just the worst. But he was also a lawyer so the likelihood that Tony knew him was high. On top of that, Steve was definitely Nat’s friend and Bruce feared that as soon as he got a better explanation of what went down between them he was going to lose any goodwill they currently shared. So this might be the only chance he had to act on an invite from him. 

So despite his reservations he put on his favorite yellow shirt, a pair of gray slacks, a leather belt. Justin lived in a literal mansion, so there was no way he was showing up as casual as he wanted to. Plus, although he wouldn’t admit it out loud, he wanted to look nice for Tony, if he were there. 

When he showed up he was all nerves and he hated it. He wanted to present that calm, collected exterior he’d shown Tony last time. If he could just see him... It occurred to him too late that he should have messaged Tony and asked directly if he’d be here, giving him specifics and guaranteeing that he would. Well. ‘Guaranteeing’ was a bit presumptuous too. 

Justin’s house was just outside the city, a sprawling and unnecessary thing Bruce had heard he’d inherited from his parents. Bruce had been here a few times before, with Nat – but that just made it all the more uncomfortable to be here now. He remembered certain rooms, certain scenes she had devised, certain people... He swallowed hard, wondering if it was worth it. 

Bruce knew he shouldn’t be doing this with his emotions all over the place like they were. He told himself as he rang the doorbell that if Tony wasn’t there, he wasn’t going to do anything with anyone. He wasn't ready for this. Not really. His obvious hang up over Tony was proof enough of that.

He was greeted at the door by Steve and was a little surprised that he was the one who’d opened it. Sometimes Justin made a whole show of having an invite list and proving yourself for entry simply because he was a dick – but Bruce was glad tonight appeared to be a lot more casual than that. 

“Hey,” Steve greeted with a firm handshake and Bruce tried to smile. “It’s been a while! Since Nat moved, I think.” 

“Yeah...” Bruce answered politely, not knowing what to say. If Steve didn’t know he was a large part of her decision to move away, then he wasn’t going to offer it. “Taken me awhile to feel like getting back in the saddle, if you know what I mean.”

Steve flashed one of his winning smiles at Bruce’s lame joke as they walked into the kitchen where a woman in a vinyl dress was serving drinks and a vast array of catered in snacks lined the counters. Almost immediately Steve left him when he was called over by someone else, clearly not that interested in him, which honestly Bruce found relieving, so he got a drink and perused the room. 

The host, thankfully, seemed nowhere to be found, so he felt he was already off to a pretty good start. However there were quite a few people he knew and he nodded in their direction when they noticed him, trying not to get involved in any drawn out conversation as he moved from room to room. There were several entertaining rooms on the main floor with people talking, drinking, making out, dancing. 

Bruce knew from experience there were also a lot of bedrooms upstairs that were free to use and he wondered if that’s where Tony was right now. It was far more likely he just wasn’t here, Bruce knew that, but he still found himself paused on that thought, staring into his cup morosely at the bottom of the stairs, an unfortunate place to have positioned himself as he was almost immediately accosted by a friend of Nat’s whom they had once fucked. 

“Bruce?” 

He snapped out of his reverie to stare at a man with shoulder-length brown hair and dark eyes whose name completely escaped him and who was nicely toned and wearing nothing but short black shorts that left little to the imagination and a thick harness across his shoulders. 

“I thought you left the scene completely when Nat left.”

Bruce tried to smile but he knew it was an abject failure. 

“Ah, I kind of did,” he admitted, wracking his brain for this guy’s name as he sidled in close, putting his rough fingers on Bruce’s arm in a suggestive way. 

“I’ve missed you – both,” he murmured just loud enough to be heard over the music and Bruce swallowed, hating that he felt absolutely nothing. 

He remembered fucking this guy – he even remembered enjoying it. He and Nat had traded off until his whole back was red and his ass was raw and he was whimpering but now? He felt nothing for this man. He couldn’t even remember his name. 

“I doubt she misses me very much,” Bruce said, trying to make a joke out of it and discourage him but he was persistent. 

“I don’t know that we need her,” he said, maybe a touch too aggressively as he leaned in, his voice low and sensual, his dark eyes on Bruce’s lips. “I remember how to be good for you.”

Bruce took a deep breath then as the other man's hand brushed carelessly against his thigh and Bruce was sure he  _ did _ remember but... 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, reaching up to touch his face, running his thumb across his cheek, truly somewhat disappointed in himself. This was a very handsome man and probably more in his league than Tony but he just... “I need some time.”

He was clearly disappointed, his lips tightening as he stepped away, but he tried to laugh it off. 

“I guess Nat can do a number on anyone,” he said casually, but then his eyes narrowed and met his again. “Why exactly did she leave? I heard she got a job offer in Seattle.”

_ You’ll never just take what you want, nothing matters that much to you, I know I sure as hell don’t. Two years, and for what? You won't even move in with me. _

“Well – more or less,” Bruce replied, hating the way it felt like the other man was looking through him, watching Nat degrade him as she stuffed her clothes into a box. 

_ You don’t even care that I’m about to walk out that door right now. You know I’ll never come back, right? _

“More or less?”

Bruce shrugged, embarrassed. “We had some... fundamental differences of opinion.”

_ Ask me to stay. Ask me to stop. _

“So different she moved across the entire country?” he asked skeptically and Bruce sighed.

“Well, she  _ was _ offered a job, too,” Bruce said, trying not to be as defensive as he felt with Nat’s voice ringing in his head. 

_ I’ll never come back. _

“That’s too bad – you were a remarkable team.”

Bruce tried not to laugh. They might have worked together well in some scenes, but they were a terrible team. 

“I wish that were true,” Bruce replied, and the man grinned like he knew something Bruce didn’t, raising his brows as he walked away then turned into the crowd. 

Bruce swallowed back the rest of his drink. Maybe he should just go. The reality was that he was going to get asked about Nat again if he stayed and waited on Tony – who might not even show up or might already be there with someone else. He couldn’t decide if it was better to get it over with now, talk to all her friends, make his lame excuses, rip it off like a Band-aid, or if it was better to leave and deal with it some other time, maybe take another couple months off, come back to the scene later when things were less raw, when he was more equipped to handle it. 

He decided that at the very least he was going to make another sweep of the downstairs, see if he could spot Tony one last time before he made his final decision about whether he was going to stay or go. If he ran into someone else and it was too much, well – he would just leave. If he didn’t, he would stay for a while. 

Truthfully, he didn’t know what he was expecting but when he made his way around and into the main room off the foyer and spotted Tony from across the vast space, he certainly wasn’t expecting  _ that _ . 

Tony was lounging on one of Hammer’s ornate couches with his long bare legs thrown over Steve’s lap. Steve had lost his shirt somewhere along the way and was only in a pair of leather pants, and while Steve was definitely a conventionally good looking guy who put in his time at the gym, Bruce’s eyes were following Tony’s legs to the shiny black underwear he was wearing tucked up into a low, soft corset cinched around his waist. Tucked into the top of that was a white button up with the sleeves rolled up and a skinny black tie that was done tight around his neck. His hair was styled impeccably and his eyes were smoked out with khol and the complete juxtaposition of whore and lawyer was perfect. 

Looking at him hit Bruce like a punch to the gut – his memories absolutely betraying him, preparing him not at all for how gorgeous Tony really was in person – and watching as he kissed Steve was even  _ worse _ . Bruce knew Steve was exclusively a sub, knew that unless Tony switched he was just being a fucking tease, but he also knew that it was working. There was no way you couldn’t look at the two of them and not want sandwich yourself between. Steve was all golden retriever puppy, handsome and shining, and Tony was like a black panther, sleek and dangerous. 

But then Tony’s eyes shot across the room like he felt Bruce's presence – maybe he just felt him staring – and when they met Bruce would have sworn he'd stopped breathing. Tony's glare was personal and scathing and he turned his head back to Steve, whispering something in his ear. Steve’s eyes moved slowly across the crowd of people, fixing on him and narrowing suspiciously. Angrily? Bruce could feel his face getting hot. It felt like he was back in high school and the popular girls were sitting on the sidelines in gym class, watching the boys play basketball, whispering and laughing about the way their junk looked in those jersey shorts.

He hadn’t really anticipated that it was Tony who was going to obliterate his goodwill with Steve. 

For a minute he was so paralyzed with shock and desire and embarrassment that he didn’t know what he was going to do to get Tony’s attention but he also wasn’t just going to  _ leave _ when Tony was  _ right there _ . He knew Tony and Steve were still watching him despite the fact that they were clearly pretending they weren’t and had gone back to kissing casually. 

But then there was – fuck, what was his name? Then it came to Bruce in a fit of divine intervention. 

“Bucky,” he murmured, grabbing his arm as he passed, and Bucky turned to him, looking optimistic. 

“Yes sir?” he teased and Bruce huffed a little. 

“Would you do me a favor?” 

“Depends.”

“I’m trying to get someone’s attention,” he admitted and Bucky’s smile turned wicked. 

“But not  _ mine _ ?”

Truly, Bruce felt like kind of an ass about that. “Not that you’re not –”

“I’m just giving you shit, we’ve all been there,” he joked, and Bruce sighed in relief. “What do you need?”

Bruce slid his arm around Bucky's waist, leaning in even closer, deliberately not risking looking over at Tony and breaking the illusion he had created that he was actually interested in Bucky. Two could play at that game.

“Can you follow me towards the stairs? I’m hoping we’ll have an intervention before we get that far but I have a feeling he’s stubborn.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned into him, tugging at his shirt a little bit, more playful than Bruce remembered him. Though when your memory of someone primarily involved them gagged and tied to a spreader bar, well... 

“Can I ask who it is?” he said in an entirely too flirtatious way, making it seem like he was asking something else and Bruce leaned in and nosed his ear. 

“Tony Stark.”

Then Bucky genuinely laughed but he tucked his face into Bruce’s neck in an attempt to muffle it. “You might end up with me afterall.” 

Bruce wasn’t particularly encouraged by that but he took him back towards the grand staircase that led to the second floor anyway, a little mental prayer he wouldn’t admit to running in his mind as they went. Bucky was still wearing that ridiculously amused grin that only got wider as they made it all the way up the stairs and halfway down the hall. But then Bruce heard him and he let himself grin just a moment before wiping it off his face.

“What the fuck?” 

Bruce turned, completely impassive, to see Tony bristling in the hallway behind them. Various muffled music interrupted by moans was floating through the hallway from behind closed doors and Bucky was clearly trying not to snigger. 

“Call me,” Bucky teased as he walked away but it was literally the worst thing he could have said as it set Tony off completely. 

“Yeah why  _ don’t _ you call him?” Tony suggested as he stormed forward, clearly not used to being ignored in any capacity. “Or do you just not know how to use a phone?” 

Bruce rolled his eyes and turned to walk back down the hallway to the last open guestroom, taking the chance that if Tony followed him this far he would follow him a few more feet. 

And he did. Tony was still angry and saying something about a complete lack of respect as Bruce locked the door behind them, how he wasn’t going to be treated like some simpering princess. But as soon as Bruce turned towards him Tony threw his arms around his neck and covered his mouth with his own. 

It was instant and intense and Bruce’s wide hands held him close, feeling his back under the expensive shirt, running them down the lacing of the corset, down to the nylon panties and gripping his toned ass. It had been a very long time since he had been kissed like that and Bruce was instantly hard, instantly wanting to just roll into bed with him and fuck him like this – all vanilla and romantic like they were a couple or something more than two people who just happened into a scene together a few weeks ago. 

There was really no accounting for attraction but Bruce was pretty sure that no matter how attracted Tony might be to him, he wasn’t looking for Bruce’s emotional baggage, so he pulled back and took a breath, running his hand up into Tony’s hair and twisting it around his fingers to stop him moving in to reconnect their lips. 

Bruce looked him dead in the eye and felt Tony’s hips rotate just slightly against his own, clearly missing the press of friction Bruce had been giving him.

“What do you want?” he asked, falling back into a role that was familiar for him and easy to access. Tony squirmed a little, trying to look away, but Bruce’s fist just tightened in his hair. “I want to know.”

“I want you to spank me so hard I’m still thinking about you when I sit down at my desk Monday morning,” Tony answered all in one breath and Bruce swallowed hard at the confession, trying not to shudder at how singularly sexy it was to imagine Tony doing just that. 

“And you won’t cum until I say?” Bruce finally managed, his voice a little more wrecked than he wanted it to be but fuck if he could help it, Tony was intoxicating.

“No sir,” Tony replied breathlessly if not a little cocky and Bruce studied his eyes for compliance, finding him more amused than submissive. 

But then he tilted back his throat a little, watching Tony watch him study the edge of his jaw, the curve of his neck, the bob of his Adam’s apple. He wanted to wrap his hand around it and squeeze, hold him there, right under his control but – 

“No choking?” he confirmed, remembering what Rhodey had said when they met. 

“No choking.” 

“And no visible marks?” he added, scraping his teeth against Tony’s neck, the barest hint of a bite, and he felt Tony shiver. 

“Right.”

“Can I call you Tony?” he asked, unsure if that was always off limits or just for that scene, and Tony chuckled. 

“You can call me whatever you want but I’m not your slave and I’m not a boy.”

Bruce grinned at that and slowly released his hair and Tony righted his neck from the angle he’d had it pinned at. 

“Nova?” he asked and Tony nodded, moving in for another kiss but Bruce stopped him with a hand on his chest, his hand trailing up to his tie, slipping two fingers up under it, jerking it just a little at his throat and Tony’s chest jumped with a sudden intake of breath.

“Teasing,” he murmured before he slid the knot down and took it off as Tony chuckled a little too airily. 

“I want you naked. This is nice,” he said, referring to the outfit as he put the thin strip of black fabric around his own neck loosely, reaching behind Tony’s back then for the corset tie, “but your body is better.” 

Tony clearly had some sensitivities and hang ups regarding his body because he couldn’t help the face he made that told Bruce exactly what kind of lie he thought that was. But the corset fell to the floor anyway as Tony undid the buttons of the shirt, leaving him in an open white shirt and high waisted black panties and it was a vision Bruce knew he was going to imagine every time he woke up in bed alone for the next week. 

Bruce pushed the shirt down his shoulders until it fell to the floor and he asked him to remove the panties, which he did, and Bruce took a cursory walk around him, studying him in a way he hadn’t had a chance to before – his lean torso and broad shoulders, the hint of abs and the strength in his calves, the extensive jagged scarring across his chest that suggested some kind of trauma and the puckered one in his side that all but confirmed it, the musculature of his back and the way he held himself like he was standing in a courtroom, waiting to be attacked. His dick was half-hard and waning as he stood there under the scrutiny but Bruce wasn’t going to force him to be uncomfortable for long.

“Beautiful,” Bruce murmured, grazing his lips against Tony’s shoulder from behind and feeling him tremble. “I’m going to restrain your arms, okay?” 

Tony nodded as Bruce slid the tie from around his shoulders and held his wrists together behind his back. He was sure this room was stocked with handcuffs or nylon cuffs – Justin was always pretty good about that – but there was something about doing it with Tony’s own tie that Bruce liked and he had always been good at ties. 

When he had his wrists cinched together he turned Tony around to face him again, and he kissed him gently – on the jaw and the cheek and the chin and the mouth – until Tony’s breath was coming out a little ragged and his eyes closed and his shoulders relaxed and he clearly no longer felt as self-concious. 

“I want you to suck me off,” Bruce whispered against his ear, letting his lips caress it as he talked. “I can’t focus on what you need when I want you so fucking bad.” 

Tony’s eyes opened wide in surprise and he whined a little in the back of his throat. It made Bruce’s dick pulse because it wasn’t a lie – he wanted him  _ so damn bad _ . But he also wanted to give Tony what  _ he _ wanted. And what he wanted wasn’t some idealized vanilla experience. What he wanted was to be raw for the next three days.

Bruce released his belt one handed and unbuttoned his pants, unzipping his fly, and he sat down on the bed. The only thing exposed about him was his dick in comparison to Tony’s complete nudity and it gave him an immediate power advantage and he used it. He slid to the edge of the bed, spreading his legs wide to accommodate Tony’s body between them. 

“Come here,” he commanded and Tony complied easily, standing before him.

Tony really was beautiful, scars and all. The most beautiful man he had ever seen. And Bruce hated what he was about to say for how selfish it felt but he said it anyway because it was what he wanted. 

“Kiss me.” 

But Tony didn’t have to be asked twice. He leaned down into it eagerly and Bruce’s breath was all caught in his chest. He ran his palm against Tony’s cheek, careful not to make him feel pinned there but warring with the desire to never let him go. Whether Tony actually wanted to kiss him or was just an incredibly talented faker, Bruce didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. He could have kissed Tony all night and he didn’t want to be disabused of the notion that Tony might want to kiss him all night too. 

Eventually, though, he drew away, staring at Tony’s body through half-lidded eyes, letting the backs of his fingers fall down his chest and slip down his skin, watching how his dick twitched when he reached Tony’s hips. 

“On your knees,” Bruce murmured and though it was soft and barely a command, Tony immediately complied, awkward as it was to get on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. 

Bruce slid his hand through Tony’s hair as he tugged him a little closer and he scooted forward on his knees. He was smirking just a little and Bruce stopped him right before his dick, his nose nearly brushing it, and Tony’s wide brown eyes were looking up at him. 

“I know you know how to put that mouth to work,” Bruce said, his voice deep and lusty, watching closely to how Tony responded to him, his skin flushing as he spoke. “Be good now and I’ll be good to you.”

He guided Tony’s mouth over his dick and groaned appreciatively to encourage him, running his hands back through his hair and letting it go as he set both hands on the bed, leaning back, watching Tony go down on him. Tony  _ was _ good with his mouth and Bruce let himself be a little more vocal than he normally would, liking the way Tony reacted with every specifically timed groan. 

Still – it was difficult to maintain control when what he wanted to do was throw Tony on the bed and fuck him senseless, but he tried. He felt himself getting close and he ran his hand through Tony’s hair again, almost cradling his head. 

“That’s good,” he purred, stroking Tony’s neck, his face, running his fingernails up his scalp and then pulling his hair back down. “Just like that. You’re going to take it all when I cum, okay? All of it.”

Tony moaned around his dick and it went straight up Bruce’s spine and he fought for control over his hand, fighting to keep it still and steady. But Tony knew, somehow he knew and he moaned again and Bruce was losing control. He pulled Tony’s hair a little too hard when he came, hunching over and breathing hard through his nose as Tony literally pulled his orgasm from him, sucking at him hard and making his abs tremble. 

When he leaned back on his ankles Tony looked up at him with a pleased little grin and Bruce kissed his swollen lips softly. 

“Good,” he murmured, his voice a little more raspy then he would have liked. “That was good.”

Tony chuckled. “Just good?” 

It was a snippy thing to say, the kind of thing Nat would have punished, but Bruce felt the corners of his lips curling up as he kissed him again. 

“Good enough,” Bruce replied with a smirk as he slid out from beneath him and refastened his pants and belt, running his hands through his own hair and settling himself a moment. 

Then he turned back to Tony, releasing his hands and helping him back up. His knees were red from kneeling on the carpet and Bruce kissed him again. It was gratuitous but he didn’t care. Despite having his number he really didn’t think he was going to see him again and so yeah – he was going to take full advantage and kiss him. 

“Will you be good and hold on to this footboard or do I need to tie you down?” Bruce threatened as he positioned Tony in front of it so that he was facing the bed, Tony’s ass towards him, and Tony’s fingers gripped the wooden beam. 

“You’ll have to see,” Tony shot back and without thinking Bruce smacked his ass. 

It was a little more playful than it was intentional but Tony still sucked in his breath, his fingers white on the beam. Bruce chuckled as he moved away from him and pulled open the top drawer on a dresser against the opposite wall. Justin always stocked the top drawer and he wasn’t disappointed. 

“No one ever taught you not to be mouthy?” he asked casually as he picked up some lube, a paddle, and some beads, putting together a plan now that he was able to think more clearly. 

“Yeah – but I think you like it,” Tony said back and Bruce grinned as he took his collected equipment back to him, pulling over a chair to set it on. 

“You’re right,” Bruce answered, running a finger down from his shoulder blade to the curve of his ass, watching as his skin prickled and listening to him hiss. “I do.”

Bruce moved his hand back up the other side of his body to his neck, feeling him shiver. 

“But it won’t get you any special favors,” he said as he pushed Tony’s face down unexpectedly into the bed so he was bent forward over the footboard. 

Tony bit down on his lower lip as he tried not to laugh after the shock of the sudden action and Bruce couldn’t help the way it made him feel. He just really liked seeing Tony’s smile.

He put his hands on his ass and rubbed it for a minute, feeling along it, appreciating it before he ruined it for the next few days.

Bruce picked up the paddle. It was sturdy and leather and rectangular and he twisted it in his wrist to get the feel of it. He could tell the position was a little higher than was comfortable for Tony to stand but he wasn’t quite on tip-toes either. Still – 

“Would you like me to get you a stool or are you comfortable like that?” he asked, drawing out the anticipation since Tony couldn’t see him at all and Tony huffed into the bed. 

“Just do it.” 

“Oh?” Bruce asked, enjoying watching him squirm. “Impatient?”

He waited until he heard Tony take a breath to argue before slapping the paddle into his ass. That intake of breath turned into a breathy curse of relief and Bruce chuckled before he hit him again.

Truly Bruce had learned from the best and he knew where to hit so it hurt but not too deep, knew how to target fat, knew how to move the paddle from an area that was getting too sensitive. There were things he wasn't as good at, but this? He had no doubt Tony would still feel it Monday. He had no doubt Tony would enjoy it.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he moaned low into the bed as Bruce hit him again, finding a punishing rhythm that he still responded well to. 

Tony's ass was bright red and he was mostly incoherent at this point but for when he managed to catch his breath enough to curse. Bruce was glad he'd had Tony get him off first because there was no way he would have been able to keep this up as long as he had managed to otherwise. Listening to Tony was an exercise in patience for him as much as the paddling was a punishment for Tony. Bruce was breathing hard by the time he decided Tony couldn't take any more and he felt a little unhinged but he took a deep breath as he put down the paddle and picked up the lube. 

Tony's shoulders were shaking as he pulled in ragged breaths, clearly thankful for the momentary respite though Bruce doubted he would have admitted it. 

He touched Tony lightly, heard him gasp even though it was just his fingertips. Bruce moved lower and nudged his legs open a bit wider, stroking his silky balls with his palm and rolling them in his hand, hearing him mutter out a muted " _ Christ _ " as his over sensitive legs began to shake a little.

“Remember what we talked about?” Bruce asked gently as he slicked his fingers in lube. “You're not to cum until I tell you. I don't want you to ruin it for yourself.” At that Tony whimpered and Bruce watched him bury his face further into the bed sheets. “So tell me if it gets to be too much and I'll stop and give you a minute. Okay?”

He waited for a moment with no confirmation and he didn't like that, he always liked his partner to be on the same page, no matter how tired they might be. 

“Hey,” Bruce said carefully, leaning over Tony's back. “You okay?”

“Do it,” Tony answered, voice strained, but he turned his head to look back at Bruce and reassure him. “I'll tell you if it's too much but –” he laughed, breathily, and it made Bruce's heart seize “– you better not screw around down there cause I’m ready.”

Bruce rubbed his back a moment, reaffirming his position as the benevolent dictator of Tony's body, then he drug his hand back down his body and across his sore ass and Tony cried out, obviously unable to stop himself, as Bruce traded hands and edged his lubed fingers into Tony's ass.

“Oh Christ,” Tony muttered, “oh  _ fuck _ .”

Bruce listened carefully as he stretched him a little, knowing he could take some bruising but still not wanting to hurt him. 

He picked up the anal beads when he felt he had spent enough time with Tony's ass, coating them in lube as Tony took a moment to acclimate to his absence, but it was only a moment before he stepped back between Tony's legs.

These particular beads were silicone and oriented so that the largest one was first, tapered to fit more easily. They weren't particularly large but given that Bruce had paddled the hell out of him for a good half hour, he was still a little cautious about Tony's ability to take it. And he pressed his left hand to Tony's side, feeling the way he was breathing, making sure he wouldn't miss a cue.

Tony groaned as he took it, his chest expanding with his breathing, and Bruce gave him a moment after, leaning down and kissing the center of his back, right above where it was red and irate. 

“Very good,” he murmured, stroking his side appreciatively. “You're doing so good. So good.”

Tony was clearly exhausted, breathing hard, and he looked up at Bruce with one eye from where his head was laying on the bed and Bruce smiled back as his hand slowly pressed another one in. 

Since they got smaller as they went the last few were pretty easy and Tony took it like a champ and Bruce kissed his back and ran his hands down his sides and rubbed them firmly down his ass as he whimpered.

“Please,” Tony asked at last and Bruce could feel his limp dick twitch at being asked like that, with that kind of tired desperation, and it was why despite everything he always came back to the scene. Bruce just really needed to be needed like that.

“You're ready to cum?” Bruce asked innocently and he heard this little sob in the back of Tony's throat. 

“ _ Please _ .”

“Hmm, you have been good...” Bruce rumbled as he pulled back, studying his ass one last time, red and stuffed full, and he slapped it.

“Stop!” Tony cried out, physical tears on his cheeks and Bruce just chuckled, positioning his hand under his arm, helping him stand. 

They were eye to eye but Tony was clearly struggling to stand, sore and exhausted and his dick was so hard Bruce saw precum glistening at the tip. He let Tony lean into him and he held him up, wrapping his arms around him and helping him to the side of the bed. Then he laid Tony down on it, positioning him in the pillows, framed by them, taking care to make sure he was comfortable. And he leaned over his body, cradling his neck in his hand, kissing him on the mouth, worshipping his lips, trailing across his jaw to his ear where he kissed it softly and whispered – 

“You'll remember  _ me _ all week.”

Tony whimpered, his body shaking as Bruce descended on his dick, sucking him into his mouth so quickly he was pretty sure there was a good chance Tony was going to lose it but to his credit, he didn't. He just cried out, tears running unabashedly down his face as Bruce gave him another quick swallow then came up for air.

He replaced his mouth with his hand, spit a poor substitute for lube but it wasn't going to be long and Tony wasn't cut so it wasn't a big deal. His other hand reached for the pull on the beads, gripping it loosely as he jerked him off. 

Tony was spread before him like a snack, sweaty and raw and gorgeous, his hands balled in the sheets, his legs wide, his face lost in what Bruce knew was a rapturous form of torture as Bruce twisted the beads slowly and Tony tried not to cum. 

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Bruce told him earnestly as he prepared him for the final moment, speeding up incrementally. “Truly – so handsome, so perfect, and you take it so well.”

Tony was wrecked. He was done. Tears were still streaming down his cheeks and he was straining and his abs were so taunt Bruce could see the musculature under his skin clearly. Nothing made Bruce feel better than this – knowing another person was so strung out on him, that he was the center of their universe for a minute, that he was it and that he alone was going to be able to make them feel something no one else could. That only he was going to be able to make them feel something  _ exquisite _ . 

“Tony,” he said firmly, “I want you to cum now.”

Tony’s head whipped back in the pillows at an intense angle and the sound he made was absolutely divine. Bruce jerked the beads from his body in one smooth stroke as Tony came hard, cum shooting up his chest all the way to his neck, back arching, and Bruce hadn’t seen anything that fucking perfect in a long, long time. His whole body was shaking and Bruce shifted to lay down beside him a moment, holding his hand with one hand and stroking his chin with the other, kissing his cheek. 

He gave Tony a moment to stop shaking before he got up to grab a towel from the ensuite bathroom, dousing it in warm water and returning to the bed where he carefully wiped Tony off, leaning down and kissing him softly. 

“Perfect,” he murmured, watching Tony turn his face into the pillow shyly as Bruce moved his eyes back down to the rest of his body, continuing his careful cleaning then folding the towel and setting it on the end table to be dealt with later. 

“Here,” Bruce said softly, pulling back the sheets and helping Tony settle down into them so he would be more comfortable. “I’m going to go get you something to drink. Okay? I’ll be right back.”

Tony nodded like he understood but then as soon as Bruce made to move he reached for his arm, grabbing at his sleeve and nearly sitting up. 

“Where are you going?” 

Bruce smiled down at him and pushed him gently back into the bed. 

“I’m just going to get you something to drink. I’ll be right back. Promise.”

Tony kind of laughed as he settled back in. “Yeah, you said that. Okay. That’s okay. But you better. I might have let you spank my ass but if you don’t I  _ will _ find you and I  _ will _ kick yours.”

Bruce laughed too and stroked Tony’s hair back off his forehead, kissing it. “I quite like  _ my _ ass intact.”

He snuck out then, making his way as stealthily as he could back downstairs, grabbing two bottles of water and a quick plate of finger foods before he made his way back up. Tony was exactly where he left him but he gave Bruce a winning smile upon his return, sitting up gingerly. 

“I have no idea what you like,” Bruce said apologetically as he set the plate near him on the end table next to the towel and handed him the water. 

Tony took it appreciatively and chugged about half of it back as Bruce climbed onto the bed with him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. Tony tried to move onto his hip so he didn’t have to sit directly on his sore ass and Bruce noticed, leaning back into the pillows and dragging Tony down with him so that he was able to easily lay on his side, his face pillowed on Bruce’s chest. 

Bruce stroked his hair back and kissed his head, like before, and it felt so, so good to hold him in his arms like that, knowing that everything Tony was feeling right then was directly because of him, what he had given him. 

“You  _ are _ perfect,” Bruce whispered into his hair, unable to help himself. 

It was too close but then... He was emotionally compromised. He knew Tony was too. Maybe he would understand. 

“Then why didn’t you call?” Tony asked softly, running his hand against Bruce’s stomach, playing with the fabric of his shirt nervously. “I know Rhodey gave you my number.”

“I guess...” Bruce laughed, feeling stupid. “I guess I thought you wouldn’t be that interested in  _ me _ . I mean, you know, outside of... this.”

“What?” Tony looked up at him to gauge his sincerity, which Bruce didn’t hide. “Why not?” 

Bruce shrugged. “I don’t know – you’re kinda famous and I’m kind of... not.” 

“Shut up,” Tony mumbled, settling himself back against his chest. “This time I’m getting  _ your _ number you big, dumb idiot.”

Bruce couldn’t help the little grin that split his face then as he stared down at the man cuddled up against him. He was still pretty sure Tony would definitely  _ not _ be interested in  _ him _ but... for a while he’d let himself believe. 


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce felt dumb staring at himself in the mirror because he never acted this way. Nat never cared what he wore – they rarely went on “dates” at all. With Betty he always felt dumb because he was young and everything was so new. But that was over ten years ago now. He thought he might have matured some in that time, but here he was, feeling like a punch-drunk teenager all over again. 

Tony had texted him Monday afternoon, saying he was definitely still thinking about him, and the little thrill that shot through Bruce between labs when he saw it was entirely inappropriate. But he still couldn’t keep himself from smiling all through the lab, despite his students’ repeated jokes about it. 

But that night they’d decided to do dinner and a movie over the weekend, like real adults, and Bruce told him he should pick dinner and Bruce would pick a “movie.” Except he had no intention of doing anything as pedestrian as that. 

Tony was supposed to be picking him up at seven. He imagined Tony had a fancy car that he would look breathtaking in when he pulled up to the curb. And instead of letting that intimidate him, Bruce was absolutely giddy. 

He wasn’t going to get any more attractive looking in the mirror though so he sighed and ran his hands through his hair one last time, sprayed on some cologne, and grabbed his phone and his wallet to go wait for him outside. 

Sure enough Tony pulled up in a Porsche Spyder, cherry red, the top down, looking even better than Bruce had imagined. His hair was windswept and he was wearing a white t-shirt with something printed on it, a black blazer, and expensive looking white jeans and Bruce did feel a little shabby in his polo and slacks but Tony was grinning up at him as he got in. 

“I hope you’re not a vegetarian,” Tony teased as he got in and Bruce winced. 

“Actually, I don’t tend to eat a lot of meat...”

“Fuck,” Tony muttered, eyes wide. “Seriously?” 

“I’ll make an exception though, for tonight,” he replied, but Tony clearly wasn’t convinced. 

“Are you sure? I made reservations but –” 

“I’m sure,” Bruce said kindly. “I don’t mind eating it on occasion, but I don’t like to cook it.”

“Well, you definitely won’t be cooking this,” Tony chuckled as he shifted the car into first. 

“This is the car you drive every day?” Bruce asked with a laugh, running his fingers appreciatively against the custom red stitching in the leather seats. It was extremely excessive, nothing he would ever buy himself even if he had the money, but he could still appreciate how nice it was.

“Only when I’m trying to impress someone,” Tony replied, flashing him a wide grin that made Bruce’s heart beat a little funny for a moment. “My commuter car is a Cayenne Hybrid.” 

Bruce laughed as he sped through a yellow light, his laugh caught on the wind. Yeah, that wasn’t conspicuous at all. He grinned over at Tony, watching the smirk on his face as he shifted gears to shoot around a line of cars turning, clearly enjoying himself. Bruce wondered what Tony’d think to know he didn’t even own a car. 

They couldn’t really talk with the top down, but Bruce didn’t really care. It was fun to be in Tony’s expensive car, the wind whipping through his hair, watching him as he shifted gears, as he kept looking over to give Bruce this little smile, like he was surprised and delighted every time he found him sitting there. It didn’t do much for Bruce’s giddiness, but it did make him feel damn good.

Tony pulled up to the valet at a steakhouse and Bruce was kind of surprised he handed over the keys so easily to the young kid, who seemed both terrified and excited at the brief opportunity he’d have to to drive that piece of machinery. But then he assumed Tony must have an absurd insurance policy on something like that. And anyway, it just made him more attractive. Crazy possessive over a car – even a hundred thousand dollar car – was not a quality Bruce was really attracted to. 

Bruce would admit to being a little awed as they walked into the darkly lit, romantic restaurant. Tony couldn’t help himself, he let his hand brush against Bruce’s as he gave his name to the hostess, and the contact was electric. Bruce looked at him, watching his shy little grin, and he reached out and squeezed just the edge of Tony’s hand quickly, confirming that he felt the same way. 

They were shown to their table, hidden a bit in the back, and Bruce appreciated how intimate it was. The whole restaurant smelled phenomenal – the warmth of gluten and the sear of steak – and there was an actual live quartet across the other side of it and Bruce felt silly and pampered all at the same time. He definitely liked to go out of his way for others but... this was pretty nice too. The only person who had ever really planned a date for him was Betty. And they’d never had the money to do something like  _ this _ .

Before Bruce even had a chance to get a word in the waiter was there, bringing them water and menus and explaining specials. Tony asked if he drank red wine and then ordered them a bottle of Nero D’Avola, a wine Bruce was sure he’d never had – but he wasn’t that picky either. 

“It actually has been a very long time since I’ve had a steak,” Bruce admitted as he looked at the menu and Tony smirked. 

“Good. Then you can have this one and you’ll never want to eat another one again.”

Bruce found his confidence infectious and he grinned over the menu at him. It was hard not to juxtapose this cocky, self-confident man with the one he had bent over a bed and spanked until he cried but it just made him all the more intoxicating. Knowing he’d had this rich, assertive lawyer in the palm of his hand? Truthfully, it made him a little hard. 

“What do you usually get?” Bruce asked, feeling overwhelmed by options he rarely indulged in.

“I am always going to choose a strip steak, but you really can’t go wrong,” Tony said as the waiter came back with the wine, saying something about it being hand picked by their sommelier, and Tony tasted it, approving it before letting him pour.

Bruce decided to just go with the filet as Tony ordered them crab cakes and he picked up his wine glass, tasting this new wine experimentally. It was darker than he usually drank but not unpleasant, full-bodied and... that was about as far as his wine knowledge went and he kind of laughed to himself as he thought about it. 

“So – now we get to clear all those exciting first date topics,” Tony joked but Bruce thought he was a little more nervous than he was trying to let on. 

Maybe this wasn’t something Tony did all that often? That thought made the little warm spot he’d been nursing since Tony texted him at the beginning of the week grow a little deeper. 

“Lucky for you, I already know what you do.”

Tony chuckled and swirled his wine in his glass. 

“Yeah, I guess Google helps with that.”

“Hmm, but I knew before that. You’re not only famous out here, you’re quite famous within the munch.”

Tony waved away Bruce’s knowing smirk with a bored expression. “That’s just a money thing. Though...” he looked closer at Bruce, narrowing his eyes a bit, “I am curious how you knew me so easily when I'd never heard of you.”

“I told you, I haven’t been to an event in at least six months,” Bruce said and Tony nodded because he did know that. 

“But still – I’ve been involved for nearly a year. Otherwise, you wouldn’t know me.”

Bruce sighed and took a sip of wine, knowing he was going to have to divulge his past at some point. He would much rather have been asked about where he worked though. 

“Did you know Natasha Romanoff?” 

“Of course,” Tony replied quickly, but then a look of understanding dawned on him as he said stupidly, “oh.  _ Oh _ .”

“Yeah,” Bruce replied, finding himself looking at anything but Tony. “I’m the reason she left for Seattle.”

Then Tony did something Bruce truly wasn’t expecting – he laughed.

“So screw around with you long enough and I’ll get to hit the west coast too, huh?” 

Bruce felt his cheeks flush involuntarily. “My exes do have a habit of moving halfway across the world to get away from me.”

“I heard you were a pretty fierce team,” Tony mused as he leaned back in the seat and Bruce tried to swallow down any residual embarrassment, looking up at Tony with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“We weren’t bad.” 

“Not hard for me to believe,” Tony said and he almost sounded shy and Bruce took it to heart. 

Their crab cakes were delivered a moment later and they ordered their mains, and Bruce was a little glad for the opportunity to steer the conversation away from kink and back into boring date material. 

“You could have Googled me too, you know,” Bruce offered over his glass as Tony plated him one of the elaborate crab cakes and smirked as he handed it over. 

“I might have.”

Bruce wasn’t particularly vain but he did know he would show up as an author on several articles he was quite proud of alongside his college’s science and humanities webpage. 

“I might have read one of your articles.”

“Really?” Bruce blinked, the fork halfway to his mouth, genuinely surprised by that. 

But Tony laughed. “Yeah, I  _ might _ have – if I had understood one fucking word in the title.” 

Bruce laughed too. “You mean lawyers don’t typically use phrases like ‘copper-catalyzed asymmetric hydroboration’ or ‘visible-light-induced decarboxylative sulfonylation’?”

“Wow, that’s nearly as sexy as you spanking me,” Tony teased though the heat in his eyes implied there was some truth to that but Bruce still rolled his eyes as he took a bite of crab cake.

“Umph, that’s good!” he said as the delicate crab melted in his mouth, perfectly seasoned and lovely, and Tony grinned. 

“I only like the best things,” Tony said, full of implication, as he took his own bite. 

“I’ve noticed,” Bruce shot back coolly with a bit more self-confidence than he normally felt outside of a lecture hall or the lab and a good bit more than he felt right now but the subtle blush pinking Tony’s cheeks was worth it.

For a minute Tony retreated behind his wine glass and food but then he leaned in again. 

“Do you like it?” he asked and Bruce thought back, trying to ascertain what he meant before he filled it in for him. “Being a professor?” 

“Oh,” Bruce said with a small but genuine smile. “I love it. It’s not... glamorous, I know, especially not the institution I work for. But it is – I don’t know. I feel like it means something. A lot of our students are nontraditional and either they use this stuff at work and have really interesting perspectives or they’re nervous about taking their first chem class in ten years and it’s fulfilling to help them really understand a concept and see them succeed. And the young kids, well – they keep me young.” 

He laughed and Tony smiled back, listening patiently as he talked. 

“They all hassled me about your text,” he teased and Tony’s face immediately became guarded but Bruce quickly clarified. “Not that I said anything, just – I guess I don’t normally smile that much when doing paper chromatography labs.”

Tony eased up then and chuckled. “I see.”

“I wouldn’t, you know – I appreciate your need for discretion,” Bruce assured him and Tony ran his lower lip through his teeth, uncomfortable with this turn in conversation. 

“You’d be surprised how many people don’t,” he muttered as he took the last bite on his plate. 

“Not much about people surprises me anymore,” Bruce admitted and Tony looked up from his plate at him. 

“I wish I could say the same.” 

“Don’t you deal with assholes every day?” Bruce asked but it wasn’t mean and Tony laughed. 

“Yeah and somehow I’m still surprised at how shitty people can be.”

Bruce laughed but actually he found it endearing, the sincerity of that statement and the little chagrined smirk on Tony’s face.

“Do  _ you _ like what you do?” Bruce asked and Tony’s grin grew into something beatific. 

“ _ Absolutely _ ,” he answered resolutely, a feral look becoming him. “I was  _ made _ for this.” 

Bruce smirked back, though he would have been embarrassed to admit how many articles he’d read about Tony in the past week. “That’s what they say.” 

“The publicity is –” He motioned in a way that made it clear it was insignificant to him. “But getting to stand on that floor and give a flawless closing argument after weeks of testimony and cross examination that throws some asshole in jail for the rest of their life since they neglected their child?” Tony made a face then that explained it all while Bruce’s insides twisted, knowing Tony was completely unaware how close to home that hit. 

“It was hard at first, when I was working my way up, working for someone else and taking whatever cases they wanted to take. It was just about money and – God, not to get too fucking personal here on the first date – but my dad was a lawyer and it was just about money to him too and I always hated that.”

“I can imagine,” Bruce said as placidly as possible though everything Tony was saying was making him squirm. He was just so fucking  _ sincere _ about it... Bruce really wasn’t expecting that.

“Now though, with my own firm, I get to choose what cases I want to take and I can take pro-bono cases if I want or charge whatever I want and I can outsource stuff I don’t want to do to the guys under me and yeah, it can be a lot of work, it’s extremely stressful and it really doesn’t leave me with a lot of time for stuff like this but...” Tony kind of shrugged. “I love it.’

“I imagine you don’t get a whole lot of sleep,” Bruce said and Tony laughed. 

“I don’t – but being able to multitask and not needing a lot to sleep to begin with helps.”

Bruce had some ideas about that but he just gave him a mischievous little smirk as their steaks came. 

Truly, it was a fantastic steak. Well seasoned, perfectly cooked, buttery soft – definitely the best steak he had in years, probably ever. He must have made a face betraying his pleasure because Tony was smiling at him, clearly amused. 

“Worth breaking your cow peace pact?” 

“I assure you it’s not like that,” Bruce replied, rolling his eyes a little, “but yeah – this is pretty damn good.”

Tony clearly flushed with pride at being able to give him a pleasurable experience and Bruce liked that. He  _ really _ liked that.

He poured himself just a hair more wine and Bruce the rest, and slowly Bruce edged his foot towards Tony’s, nudging him a little and Tony grinned at him. It was weird to be so nervous about touching him like that when he’d literally had him bent over a bed only last weekend but he was and Bruce liked  _ that _ too. It had been a long time since he had felt butterflies like this. He missed it. He hoped Tony felt the same way but... he was pretty sure he did. 

They talked a little bit more about their work, Bruce having just about as many crazy stories about academics as Tony did about lawyers, and he loved it every time he would say something that made Tony laugh. He had the most handsome laugh, throaty and full and generous and Bruce wracked his brain for things to say to make him laugh like that again. 

Tony said he would order dessert but Bruce stopped him with a grin. 

“Oh no – don’t order dessert. I’ve got that covered.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “I assure you the torte here is much better than any box of Junior Mints.”

“We’re not going to the movies,” he told him, laughing, and Tony grew curious. Bruce realized he really liked when Tony looked at him like that too. “It’s a surprise.”

“I think we can suspend surprises at this point. I’m going to go, whatever it is,” he assured him and Bruce shook his head. 

“I don’t want you to think about it too much.”

Tony laughed, clearly bemused. “Now I’ll do nothing  _ but _ think about it.”

“You’ve not got very long,” Bruce threw back at him and Tony's eyes narrowed. 

“You just like being in control.” 

Bruce couldn’t help it, he had to take the opportunity. “Yeah – but I think you like it.”

He was rewarded with one of Tony’s rich laughs and he watched the way his eyes crinkled and fuck – Bruce realized all at once that he was pretty sure he was done for. Maybe he didn’t know Tony very well, but he knew, if things continued along this trajectory it was only going to be a matter of time before he was head over heels in love with the man. 

As they waited for the valet Tony let his hand reach over and brush Bruce’s, feeling him out, and Bruce reached back a little, holding his hand open so Tony could let his fingers slip between his for the few minutes they stood there. They didn’t say anything, by some silent agreement neither one even looked at the other, but Bruce’s heart was pounding in his chest and it was just as intense as if Tony had dropped him off at his door kissed him under the porchlight when he was seventeen. But he was thirty-six and he still couldn’t stop himself from grinning like an idiot.

Their hands fell apart when the car pulled up though and Bruce took a minute to collect himself, sliding into that beautiful piece of machinery and inputting the address he was taking them to into Tony’s GPS. It had a ridiculous name, Sweet Experiment, and he doubted Tony would recognize it as it wasn’t where Bruce imagined his normal haunts to be. And he didn’t, but when the name pulled up on the sophisticated system to verify the location Tony looked over at him with a laugh. 

“I promise, it’s not what you think,” Bruce said and Tony just revved the engine and leaned over the center console. 

“What if I  _ want _ it to be?” he teased back before pulling out of the lot. 

Bruce looked out across the door as they drove to stop himself from just staring at Tony, though he was pretty sure he could have done so contentedly for the rest of the night. He needed both hands to work the manual transmission but Bruce wanted to hold his hand again. He wanted to have him tucked up against him in bed. He wanted to kiss him again. 

When they pulled up to the building it was clear it wasn’t what Tony was expecting. It was a pretty nondescript brick building like all nondescript brick buildings in strip shopping centers were, with wide glass windows and bright lighting inside, very white, and glass cases of desserts displayed along the front. 

“You weren’t kidding about dessert,” Tony said with an uncertain look and Bruce turned to him and grinned a little. 

“I like dessert,” Bruce said, undisturbed as he got out of the car. 

There were several tables set up with a large display of ingredients and mixers at each one and the instructor greeted Bruce at the door, getting his name before Bruce led Tony to a table in the back. They weren’t really here for the instruction as much as the experience, and he was glad to see the other couples that were already there took the closer tables. 

Tony laughed a little nervously. “What is this?” 

“We’re going to learn how to make ice cream.”

He was a little nervous himself as he said it, suddenly unsure if Tony would be interested in that, but Tony’s face immediately relaxed again, putting Bruce at ease too. 

“Really?” Tony asked, his lips curling into a grin and Bruce nodded. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “So I hope  _ you’re _ not lactose intolerant.”

Tony laughed a little, bumping his knee with his own on the little bar stools they were seated at. 

“I’m not,” Tony assured him. “But no one has ever taken me to something like this. I’m really – I’m excited.” 

Bruce grinned and bumped his knee back. “I’m glad.”

The instructor went over the basics with them, pointing them to a list of ratios and explaining how the mixer worked, how the ice cream cooler worked. Tony really listened with rapt attention and Bruce’s guess that he was just as big a nerd as he was himself was clearly correct. Which he found was yet another thing he really, really liked about Tony.

She explained a little bit about flavor profiles, pointing out that your favorites at the grocery store were always a good starting point but that others such as strawberry and mint or cilantro and lime were where the real fun was, and not to shy away from adding cheese either. It was a little hard for Bruce to imagine, but she claimed asiago was a great addition to ice cream. 

They began uncovering ingredients and Tony was grinning with genuine excitement and Bruce’s heart was doing something damn stupid for a first date but he couldn’t help it even if he wanted to. 

“This is really cool,” Tony said as he uncovered a serving container of fresh cut fruit. “I’m going to make something really off beat. Like... What cheeses do you have over there?”

Bruce laughed and slid the long container away from him so he couldn’t see the labels. 

“You probably have a pretty advanced palate, all those client meetings I’m sure you go to, right?” Bruce asked and Tony kind of shrugged. 

“Yeah, I mean – what of it?” 

“So what if I make you guess?” 

Tony laughed, amused and intrigued and he held out his hand for a piece. “Okay. Hit me.” 

Bruce shook his head slightly. “That’s too easy, don’t you think? Close your eyes.”

Tony cocked his head a moment then let his eyes sweep over the room, assessing what other people were doing, clearly a little anxious about the request – but when he turned back to Bruce he closed his eyes obediently. He had one arm resting on the table and as Bruce picked a piece he held it to his lips and brushed Tony’s knuckles with his fingertips. Tony could clearly smell the sharp cheese and he opened his mouth right before Bruce touched his lips with it and Bruce put it in his mouth lightly. 

He chewed thoughtfully then opened his eyes in triumph when he got it. “Parmesan.”

“Close your eyes,” Bruce admonished softly and Tony laughed but he did it. “And you’re right.”

Again Bruce picked a piece of cheese and brushed his knuckles as he held it to his mouth and Bruce couldn’t help swallowing a little as he slid the cheese between those soft lips, involuntarily imagining how Tony went down on him the last time they were together and he trying not to choke. 

“This one was easy,” Tony teased, “she was just talking about asiago.” 

“Okay then,” Bruce said, his voice far smoother than he felt at that moment, “I’ll pick something hard.” 

But instead of cheese he choose white chocolate and this time when he brushed Tony’s knuckles he opened his mouth automatically and Bruce fed him the chocolate with a smirk. Immediately he made a face and nearly spit it out, but somehow Tony managed to maintain his composure enough to swallow it instead, and Bruce hated the way his dick responded to realizing that.

“What was that?” he asked, scrunching up his face in this adorable way as he slid his tongue through his mouth, trying to clear the taste. 

“It’s not that bad, it’s just because you weren’t expecting it after all that sharp cheese,” Bruce chuckled. “You wanna try again? I’ll let you smell it first.” 

“Well whatever it was I’m not pairing it with cheese,” Tony admitted but he decided he would try it again. 

“Here,” Bruce offered, stroking his knuckles as he opened his mouth a bit more hesitantly. “It’s sweet.”

Tony made a face at that but then even with his eyes closed Bruce could tell he had a dawning understanding. He was so animated and expressive, it was wonderful. Bruce felt like he could sit and watch just his face all night.

“It is sweet, like cream, or maybe... white chocolate?” 

“Yes!” Bruce said, honestly excited for him. “That was a hard one. How about something that might pair better with it...?” 

He picked up a raspberry and fed it to him and his eyebrows perked up in surprise. “Tart! But I would guess raspberry. I don’t really like white chocolate, but I do appreciate white chocolate raspberry ice cream.”

Bruce grinned. “I know I planned this date but you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who sits around eating pints of ice cream.” 

Knowing he worked constantly and still had a physique like he worked out at least a couple days a week left Bruce assuming he watched what he ate pretty carefully. 

But Tony made a sound to refute that. “No, there is nothing better to eat while going through deposition notes. Why do you think I was so into this?”

Bruce smiled at him, though Tony couldn’t see it, because yeah, he liked that too. He liked it a lot and he almost leaned in to kiss him but that was taking it a little further than they’d agreed.

He fed him a few more things and they laughed over the straight basil and the spongy marshmallows and the dried coconut, Bruce picking everything with an odd texture that he could find. And Tony was leaning in to him by the end, brushing Bruce’s fingertips with his lips playfully and grinning at him and he knew Tony had to know what he was doing to him.

But Bruce didn’t care. He told Tony he could open his eyes and he stared into those big, warm brown eyes, loving the way they stared back at him – openly affectionate, clearly into him – and Bruce was glad Tony looked away first, blushing. 

“I think I know what I’m going to do,” he said, stealing a glance at Bruce and Bruce chuckled. 

“I still have no idea. I was a little distracted,” Bruce teased and Tony flashed him a grin. 

“I’m going to take no responsibility for that,” Tony said as he grabbed the cheese and tasted a few and Bruce turned back to the ingredients, trying to think of what he wanted right then. 

“What did you decide?” Bruce asked and Tony shook his head. 

“I’m not telling,” he sang, pushing his bowl out of Bruce’s line of sight and Bruce laughed. 

“Fine. I’m a little skeptical of the cheese though.”

“Oh, it’ll work,” Tony told him, exuding self-assurance, as they went about putting together their respective ice creams. 

They were a little behind the rest of the participants, but it was very lowkey and no one really cared. The instructor came over to help them get their machines sorted out and Bruce did get a glance at Tony’s very purple ice cream and made an intentionally neutral face, like he was trying not to judge but clearly unimpressed, and Tony laughed and nudged him with his elbow. 

“We’ll see whose is better,” Tony said smugly and Bruce couldn’t help but grin at Tony’s competitive nature. 

It actually didn’t take that long for them to firm up enough and they each packed a quart of their respective ice creams to take home and then scooped the remainder into dishes – Bruce giving Tony half of his honey, lemon, and mint ice cream and Tony giving Bruce half of his purple concoction. 

“Now I should make you guess what’s in it,” Tony teased but Bruce didn’t care, picking up his spoon. 

“It’s obviously blackberry,” he pointed out as he took a spoonful. “Though, like I said, the cheese I’m not sure of...” 

It was softer having been just made than something store bought and Tony picked up his spoon, taking a helping of his own too. 

“We’ll taste it at the same time,” he said, “so if it’s terrible you’re not suffering alone.” 

“Oh boy, that’s encouraging,” Bruce shot back sarcastically, but Tony just held his spoon to his mouth and cocked his eyebrows and they both tasted it at the same time. 

Truthfully it was weird, but it wasn’t bad – blackberry and goat cheese being a pairing he’d had before on a cheese plate, just never combined together in ice cream.

“I think it could do with less cheese,” Tony laughed, “and maybe some pear...”

“Pear would be good too, but I think I like the cheese,” Bruce said, taking another bite. “Maybe you got too much the first time.”

“Maybe it grows on you,” Tony said after another thoughtful bite. “But it's certainly good enough for depositions. Though if yours is better I’m going to be mad.”

“If mine is better, I’ll let you have it for work,” Bruce replied as he scooped up a spoonful of his own and Tony did as well, testing it out. 

It was a little too mild, the honey didn’t come through enough but the mint in the background was a nice choice and he thought he would do it again, just differently. Maybe add some vanilla to mellow it a little. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t have thought of that,” Tony said as he took another bite, tasting it and looking thoughtful. “It’s like a cup of tea without the tea.”

“Right,” Bruce grinned. “Tea is what I drink while grading papers. I think the honey gets a bit lost competing with the lemon though.”

“Maybe, yeah. The honey is pretty subtle and the lemon is a little sharp,” Tony agreed. “But I like it. Not better than mine – of course – but it’s about equal, you know, a good first attempt.” 

Bruce laughed as he took another bite, completely enamored with the man sitting next to him. That he was there. That he was doing this. That he was  _ into  _ it. That he was there with him, smiling at him, flirting with him, and he just... 

  
Bruce was  _ so _ into him. 

When they got out to the car Tony recalled the coordinates to Bruce’s place but Bruce touched his shoulder and stopped him and Tony looked over at him, unsure. 

“I – I’m really glad we did this,” Bruce stumbled, casting his eyes downward at Tony’s hand on the gear shift, the big gold signet ring he wore, “and I – I would really like to kiss you.” 

He looked up at Tony as he said it and watched Tony’s little smile grow bigger. The coupe was small and they were already close and Tony reached for his hand and squeezed it a little. That alone was enough to get his heart racing again. 

“Good,” Tony breathed along the curve of those subtle lips, “because you have no idea how hard it’s been for me to sit here waiting to see if you’d ask.” 

Bruce laughed because of just how ridiculous that confession was. They’d kissed before, it wasn’t that big a deal, Tony could have kissed him at any time and he would have welcomed it eagerly. But something about it being their first date and all – it was different. And Tony felt it too. And Tony laughed too and for a moment they just laughed and even that felt like electricity through his body. 

But then Bruce nudged his hand, pulling him a little further across the center console, becoming quite serious very quickly as he put his other hand on Tony’s cheek and leaned in and kissed him. 

It was like none of their other kisses before and he felt Tony’s hand grip his tighter, that ring digging into his skin, and he couldn’t have let go if he tried. It was like – God, what metaphor could hold a candle to that kiss? A symphony, fireworks, a ship pitching madly across the waves, everything all at once and Bruce knew he was totally, utterly fucked for Tony Stark. 

His stomach was tying itself in knots as Tony’s tongue nudged his own, and he slid his hand from Tony’s cheek down to his blazer, slipping up under it, wanting to feel his body breathing underneath his fingers splayed along his ribs. He hadn’t made out with anyone like this since Betty – in a car with fingers all twisted in his hair, holding hands like teenagers – and he didn’t know how he was supposed to control what he was feeling. He didn’t think it was possible. 

And when finally Tony’s lips fell away, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together, he mumbled out a dumb “think that ice cream is probably soup” and Bruce couldn’t help laughing with him then, a little sweatier and a little hornier than he thought he’d ever be on a first date again. 

Tony drove him back to his place and even though he had to drop his hand to shift gears, it came right back to Bruce’s each time. And each time Bruce gave it a little squeeze to welcome it back, smiling over at its owner with unfettered tenderness. 

“You’ll actually call me this time, right?” Tony asked with a guarded smile as he pulled the parking brake once they had reached the curb. “Or at least text?”

“I  _ am _ a fucking idiot,” Bruce muttered as he moved in to kiss Tony again and Tony easily obliged. 

“I believe I called you a ‘big, dumb idiot,’ which I realize is only moderately better,” he conceded as he pulled apart just enough to say it and Bruce grinned as he leaned back into the kiss.

“Big, dumb fucking idiot,” he said as he kissed him again.

“You don’t want me to walk you to the door?” Tony asked with a smirk when they’d finally accepted that really, they couldn’t make out in that car all night. 

“No,” Bruce answered with a sigh, “because then I’d never let you leave and I'd never get to feel the excitement I felt tonight at the prospect of seeing you again."

Tony laughed, both of them blushing a little at his unvarnished honesty, and he watched as Bruce took his ice cream and got out of the car. He’d almost made it all the way inside the entry, he’d even had the door unlocked – but at the last minute he just said fuck it, set the ice cream on the step and ran back to the car. Tony’s face was full of surprise and Bruce took that handsome, handsome, handsome face in both his hands and kissed him one last time – hard, passionate, and sincerely. 

But it was just for a moment before he rushed back to the safety of his door, leaving Tony stunned as he picked up the ice cream and slipped inside quickly, locking it back behind him and grinning like the big, dumb fucking idiot he was all the way up the five flights of stairs to his loft apartment where he didn’t even remember to put up the ice cream before falling into a dazed heap on the bed, masturbating to thoughts of Tony before he fell asleep smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

_ Hey. I know this is a big ask and if you don’t want to I completely understand, I don’t want to pressure you and I’d be happy to just do the dating thing because I really like you but do you think you could come over Thursday night for something else? _

They had texted a little back and forth through the weekend and every time Bruce heard his phone ding he got that giddy little rush of excitement to see what Tony had said. Tony was so funny and so cute and he liked to send dumb selfies of what he was doing and Bruce saved every single one to his phone. 

But this? This he had no idea how to reply to it at first. 

_ I could ask someone else it just feels kind of weird to do that? Because I want it to be you. _

The next message came in before he even responded to the first and Bruce flushed, looking back down at his desk but completely unable to comprehend the tests there, Tony completely derailing the quick grading he was trying to get in before his next lecture. And he knew he had to reply before class started in twenty minutes or he’d never be able to focus long enough to avoid any unfortunate Freudian slips. 

So he agreed, not really knowing what to expect. 

Tony had explained to him that it was going to be a difficult day – that the case he was on hit really close to home for him and he had closing arguments and then jury deliberation and they had no idea how long that was going to take – and that he just really wanted someone to take him down for a while, knock him out and put him someplace where he didn’t have to think for a while and Bruce could understand that. 

Still – he didn’t really know Tony that well or what he liked aside from being spanked. And he didn’t have a lot of his own equipment – most of it had been Nat’s – so he felt at a disadvantage. But he packed what he had into a gym bag on Thursday with a few ideas in mind before heading over to Tony’s.

The address was in the middle of the city and he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. It was late for a weeknight – for him, anyway – eight by the time he got there. Tony said he’d order in some dinner but Bruce ate a light snack anyway, feeling nervous and jittery. He was beyond excited to see Tony again, but the only thing they’d done last week was kiss. This was going to be very different. 

Tony’s building looked more like an office building than condos and there was a burly guard at the bottom, glaring at him suspiciously. 

“Um, I’m here to see Tony Stark?” he offered.

Tony had warned him he’d have to talk to the guard but that he’d leave his name at the desk so he’d be allowed up. Bruce had to show him his ID but he was eventually given access to the elevator and he went up to the top floor, wringing the canvas handle of the bag as the elevator glided up forty stories. 

There were only two doors at the top when he exited the elevator – one to the left and one to the right – and Tony told him he was on the right so Bruce went that way with a grimace for the ugly black and white artwork that hung in the center. He truly hadn’t thought rich people were subjected to such junk.

When Tony greeted him he was still in a suit and he looked very tired, but there was a certain draw to his lips that betrayed how happy he was to see him and Bruce smiled back. 

“Happy didn’t give you too much shit in the lobby?” Tony asked and Bruce just looked around the vast, modern, open-concept condo in shock. 

“Huh?” he said stupidly, taking in everything from the marbled kitchen to the open dining area to the inset living room with the absolutely gigantic TV and the sleek couches and the overwhelming floor to ceiling view of the city. 

“Happy, in the lobby?” 

Bruce blinked. “Happy?” 

“That’s his name.”

“That’s his... name?” 

Tony laughed at him and Bruce scratched at the back of his neck, embarrassed but smiling too. 

“Sorry – you’ve never been here before. Yes, Happy is the security guard’s name, or nickname, or whatever – he usually only works week nights. And this is my little chateau, if you will.” 

Tony pointed out the obvious rooms he could see, then led him back down the hallway, mentioning the office and library and guest rooms, all the way to the back where he opened the door on a large master suite. 

“And this is my bedroom,” he purred as he drew Bruce in by the hand, the first time he had touched him since Friday, and it was electric. 

His bedroom was done in the same sleek style the rest of the condo sported, his bed obviously something custom, far too large to be even a king, and it sat on a flat black bed frame that curved up at the top, cushioned, looking particularly inviting for reading but the thought made Bruce grin. They definitely weren’t about to be lounging around reading. 

“This is really... something,” Bruce said, chuckling, completely out of his depth and Tony grinned back. 

Tony’s eyes were still tired but there was a nervous little hum there now and Bruce touched his cheek gently with the backs of his fingers, watching as Tony leaned immediately into the touch. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice firm and soft, “I’m here now. I’m going to take care of you.”

Tony shivered at that and it was a physical reaction that Bruce could actually see and he tried not to let it go to his head. 

“I can stop at any time,” he reminded Tony, stroking his fingers back through his hair as he reiterated. “Whenever you want. Just use your safe word, okay? And I won’t choke you or leave any visible marks, okay?” 

“Okay,” Tony agreed and Bruce leaned in to give him a soft kiss and he sighed into it, gripping the back of Bruce’s neck. “I really missed you.” 

Bruce chuckled. “I know.”

And he missed Tony too. Tony Stark and Tony the submissive. 

“Let me help you get out of that suit,” he murmured as he kissed him one more time, slipping the two buttons on the coat. 

It was black on black with a black vest and Tony looked damn good in it. Bruce couldn’t imagine having to stand up in court and face him looking so sharp and piercing in that get-up. 

“It’s a shame, really,” Bruce continued, slipping the coat from his arms and throwing it on the long bench at the foot of the bed. “You are so stunning... I could rip down your pants and fuck you just like this.”

A little noise like a whimper escaped Tony’s lips at the unexpected hardness in Bruce’s words and he slid his finger beneath the paisley impressed tie, tugging it away from his gorgeous throat and placing a kiss there above his collar. 

“No,” Tony sighed at last as Bruce pulled away the tie and he paused. 

“No, I won’t? Or no, I can’t?” he asked as Tony’s head righted itself to look him in the eye. 

There was a mischievous look in his eyes then that got Bruce’s blood hot instantly, making him want to follow through with the threat just to put him in his place. 

“You can’t,” he teased with a wicked smirk and the desire to wrap his hand around his throat was difficult to repress. 

“And why do you think that?” Bruce threatened darkly, grabbing at the buttons on his vest and then feeling – oh. 

Suddenly Bruce understood and he was instantly pushed right over the line. He tried to maintain composure as he undid all of buttons, slipping off his vest and then going for the shirt, tried to continue being strong and steady but – Tony had managed to undo any of the composure he’d thought that he had.

Because underneath his shirt was a simple but beautiful hishi karada. The rope was black too, the diamond pattern across his chest perfect and stunning. Bruce’s fingers instantly went to the ropes, feeling the tension, glad they were not as tense as he would normally tie them if Tony had been wearing this all day. 

“Who told you you were allowed to wear this?” Bruce asked, his voice rough with barely restrained lust. 

“I put it on myself,” he said proudly as he dropped his shirt and unbuckled his belt, sliding his pants and briefs down his hips, showing off the way the pattern framed his crotch, the final knot in the pattern tucked up under his balls so that he had to feel it every time he sat down or shifted position. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” Tony said, biting his lower lip a moment then adding, “I wanted to be able to think of you.”

Bruce felt his stomach drop out like he was in free fall and for a minute he couldn’t even think of anything to say. He just. Tony was so much. Too much. Too good. 

“Did you?” he asked as his fingers traced along the rope, making Tony’s skin prickle as he stood there, letting him inspect him. “Think of me?”

“God  _ yes _ ,” Tony breathed and Bruce grinned as he leaned in, tightening one hand in the rope and dragging him close. 

“Good,” he murmured in his ear, “but next time you better ask me first.” 

He felt Tony tremble and he was already strung out, already ready for it. Bruce kissed at his ear and across his cheek, down to his neck. Tony stood there pliantly, just feeling the way Bruce kissed him, breathing through his mouth, heavy and sedate. 

Bruce moved around to his back, finding the final knot at the base of his spine and loosening it slowly. Each twist moved from the back to the front and then back to the back of his body and Bruce took his time, noting how the impressions in his skin grew deeper as he traveled upwards. The intersection of rope and scar tissue was beautiful and Bruce kissed at the impressions left on his chest and where they weren’t, listening to Tony’s breath hitch. 

“Who told you I liked ropes?” Bruce asked as he released the final decorative ties that led to the base structure, moving around to his back to finish untying him. 

Tony laughed. “Steve. Though... I’ve talked to a lot of people about you.”

“You have?” Bruce asked, acting nonchalant though he was suddenly self-conscious, wondering what people would say about him but trying to shove it down.

“I want to please you,” Tony said as Bruce reached the starting loop just south of the nape of his neck and pulled the rope through it to release the main structure that ran down the center of his back and back up his chest. 

Bruce put his hand lightly on his jaw, careful not to touch his throat, just offering an impression of it there as he kissed the pretty marks that were now exposed around the back of his shoulders. 

“You do,” Bruce assured him and kissed the back of his neck, tilting Tony's head back a little with a hint of pressure on his jaw as he nipped his ear, kissing it. “You are wonderful.”

Bruce realized then that Tony might have a bit of a praise kink as he felt Tony relax back into him and he considered what Rhodey had said those few weeks ago, something about him getting enough degrading shit at work. And though Bruce wasn’t always great at praise, he made a mental note to try as he slid his hand back down along Tony’s throat lightly, following the knotted rope down his chest. 

“You wore this all day – for me,” Bruce rumbled, his voice low in Tony’s ear. “You’re so good to me.” His hand slid across Tony’s hip to his ass, grabbing it and then spanking it hard, feeling Tony jump. “You going to be good for me a little longer?” 

“Hell yeah,” Tony breathed and Bruce grinned. 

“Can I fuck this gorgeous ass?” he felt ridiculous saying it but Tony clearly loved hearing it and he pressed his ass back into Bruce’s hips, rubbing it eagerly against the front of his pants.

“ _ Please _ ,” Tony whined and Bruce walked back around to the front of him to remove the rope from around his neck, carefully working it over his head, not bothering to unknot it all the way. 

“So handsome,” Bruce breathed as he kissed at his collarbone where the rope had sat. 

“So beautiful,” he soothed as he ran his fingers down the scar tissue on his chest, kissing at it, feeling Tony tense and then relax, reaching to run his own fingers through Bruce’s hair as Bruce got down on his knees. 

“So good,” he said as he kissed his hips, the faint impressions left by the rope, running his hands along his ass, the definition in the backs of his thighs. 

“Perfect,” Bruce said at last before taking his dick in his mouth and sucking on it. 

He could feel Tony’s surprise as he tensed and Bruce loved it, loved being able to surprise him with something nice. Tony moaned out loud, pulling his hair, appreciating having Bruce on his knees, and Bruce lavished his dick with praise for a few minutes. He wasn’t working at it hard enough to make him cum, just enough to relax him, to get his nerves worked up, to make him want it more. And when he pulled away he smirked up at Tony, slapping his ass playfully. 

“Now you be good and get on the bed for me, okay?” 

Tony nodded eagerly and did as he was told as Bruce got up and opened his bag. 

“On your knees, face down,” Bruce instructed as he pulled out his favorite expandable spreader bar, pulling the pieces out and listening to them click into place. 

Normally he would take the time to bind him to it with rope, but he wanted to wait for when they had more time. So instead he chose two pairs of nylon cuffs he had, locking one pair to each end of the bar. 

Tony knelt there patiently on the bed with his face buried in a pillow and his ass in the air as Bruce took out condoms and lube and pulled off his own shirt, undressing to fuck Tony more easily. He hated to admit how much he was looking forward to it, but seeing him spread out before him, it made his blood hot and he  _ wanted _ it. He wanted it  _ a lot _ .

Bruce climbed over the comically huge bed to him, setting the bar below his ankles as he strapped him into it, then moving it up behind his knees and locking his wrists in as well, leaving him bent over with most of his weight on his upper chest and face. Tony tested his range of motion by trying to move his arms but it wasn’t much and Bruce smirked. 

“You okay?” he asked casually and Tony hummed an affirmative as he moved his face from where it was buried in the pillow. 

“Yeah,” he repeated, trying in vain to look back at Bruce as he ran his hands gratuitously along his ass, down his thighs, and between his legs as Tony tried not to moan.

“What do you want?” Bruce asked, loving the confessional nature of it, that Tony might be embarrassed to say it but that he would anyway. 

“Fuck me into the mattress so hard I can’t breathe,” he ground out and Bruce bit his tongue, feeling like he was the one who couldn’t breathe as his hands faltered on their slow exploration of Tony’s ass and he stopped and smacked it hard.

“Good,” he replied and Tony bit out a moan as he slapped him again. “Because that’s exactly what I am going to do.”

Bruce reached back for the lube and the condom and opened the bottle, pouring a generous amount in his hand before slipping his fingers in Tony’s ass. He took his time, loving each delicious moan Tony made as he worked at him. With his other hand he was rubbing his ass, his legs, slowly, methodically, unless he had to add more lube, and he could see the way Tony’s chest expanded with each deep breath he took, relaxing with each exhaled moan. 

He knew Tony liked pain – liked to be spanked – but he wanted to take him somewhere else tonight. It seemed like he’d had enough pain today. 

“ _ Fuck _ , Bruce,” he moaned, licking his lips and swallowing and Bruce could tell he had been drooling helplessly into the pillow beneath him. “This – it feels –”

“Shh,” Bruce murmured as he stretched at that sensitive, tight ring of muscle, getting anxious to fuck him but glad he was patient, glad that Tony was where he wanted him to be. “I got you.”

Tony made a sound of relief as he buried his face back into the pillow and Bruce poured more lube into his hand as he worked a final finger in slowly. It was easy because Tony was so good at letting go, focusing on the sensation, that Bruce didn’t have to guide him much. It was never effortless – for Bruce there was always the concern that he would screw up, push too hard, miss a cue – but with Tony, at least right now, it was as effortless as it had ever been. Tony knew what he wanted and he knew how to get there and he trusted Bruce enough to let him do it. 

“Very good,” Bruce purred as he ran his hand back up Tony’s ass. “You are being so good, so patient.” 

He ran his hand back down, running his palm through the lube dripping down Tony’s balls as he slid his hand over them. 

“You’ve been so good that tonight you can come whenever you want.” 

He said it as he reached between Tony’s spread legs, running his hand along his dick and tugging at it a little and Tony moaned so loudly it made his own dick twitch. 

“But no matter when you do, I’m going to fuck you until I’m done with you, okay?” 

“Y-yes, sir,” Tony muffled into the pillow and Bruce dropped his hand from his dick, reaching for the condom. 

It was always a little difficult with the spreader bar between his legs, created a little distance between them that Bruce hated, but he could work around it. He had before.

“Can you come without having your dick touched?” he asked as he slid the condom on and Tony recognized it for the serious question it was and tilted his face so his mouth wasn’t directly buried in pillow. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“We’ll have to see...” Bruce said blandly and took note of it, curious if anyone had ever really taken the time to try with him, but tonight he wasn’t going to make him suffer for it. 

Tony took his dick beautifully. Bruce was massaging him with his hands, running them hard over the flesh of his ass, sliding in extremely slowly, making sure Tony felt every thick inch of it and he moaned out this long, singular note that made Bruce’s stomach churn. He was pretty sure he would hear that moan haunting his wet dreams for the next two weeks. 

Bruce slid out a little, fucking him slowly, just a few inches at a time for a moment, just to loosen him up and Tony adjusted his position minutely to get more comfortable. But after a few minutes Bruce knew he was ready and he gripped Tony's hips in both hands, pressing his fingers hard to his flesh. 

“Are you ready?” he asked and he saw Tony nod into the pillow. 

“Fuck  _ yes _ ,” he exhaled as Bruce pulled out and then slammed back in, hard. 

If there was one thing that Bruce had to his advantage, it was stamina, and especially with a condom on, in the right mindset and with the right rhythm he could prolong his own orgasm a painfully long time. And he set a painfully hard rhythm that had Tony’s arms fighting his bonds, his fingers clawing at the sheet as he tried in vain to get out. 

For a moment Bruce was concerned. Even though he’d asked for it, he thought maybe it was too much. He knew Tony had enough experience to use his safe word if he needed to but...

“Fuck!” he growled as Bruce put his palm on the center of his back, trying to ground him. “F – fuck me. I can’t, I  _ can’t _ ...”

Whatever Tony wanted to say was lost as he bit down on his cheeks and Bruce snapped his hips to the rhythm he’d established, running his hand up Tony’s back, feeling the way his chest heaved. 

“Tell me,” he said, thinking back to Tony’s texts, that it was a difficult case for him. Thinking about him wearing those ropes as he gave his closing argument, wanting to think about somewhere he felt safe. Thinking back to him saying he’d been taught not to be mouthy, not to talk. Thinking back to repeating himself, trying to get Tony to talk, to say what he wanted from Bruce. He didn’t want him to feel repressed like that. Not with him. “You’re safe here.” 

Tony cried out at hearing that, almost like a sob, and words started falling out of his mouth faster than Bruce anticipated in a jumble Bruce couldn’t understand as he buried his face in the pillow, yelling threats and curses. 

“You can’t fucking  _ do that _ ,” he said at last, sucking great breaths in through his mouth as he turned his head, his eyes angry and focused far away as Bruce slid his hand down his chest to his dick, fisting it, feeling like he couldn’t let Tony keep this up, he had to give him some kind of release from whatever angry torture was in his mind. 

“You can’t fucking  _ touch me _ , you can’t,  _ you can’t _ , I’ll kill you, I’ll fucking  _ kill you _ ,” he babbled, barely breathing through the words as his dick swelled in Bruce’s hand. 

“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you,” he repeated mindlessly, fists clenching as he came, hard and hot across Bruce’s hand, and he descended into a deep moan that got Bruce off despite himself and the alarming nature of what Tony was saying. 

Bruce kind of hated himself as he sat there on his knees, his dick softening in Tony’s pliant body, sweaty and spent and sated but concerned. He knew he had established that he was going to come no matter what but this wasn’t a contingency he’d anticipated.

Tony’s breathing was evening out and Bruce released him from the bindings, moving the bar and sliding out from between Tony’s legs, helping him roll into a more comfortable position on his back. His eyes remained closed, those long, dark lashes fluttering on his cheeks, his face completely at peace and Bruce stroked his sweaty hair away from his forehead. 

“I’m going to go to the bathroom but I’ll be right back.” 

Tony just hummed and Bruce kissed his forehead lightly before sliding out of bed and making his way to the huge and sleek bathroom. He threw away the condom and washed his hands, taking a minute to catch his breath and deal with what Tony had said. 

_ You can’t touch me. I’ll kill you. _

It was too late now, but he thought he really should have Googled exactly what kind of case Tony was on. It just highlighted how much he didn’t know about Tony. He knew that sometimes people came into the scene to explore past trauma, but... 

He glanced back at Tony on the bed. Who had hurt him? Why was he so heavily scarred? He didn’t want to violate Tony’s privacy, but now – he just wasn’t sure. 

Bruce grabbed his boxers when he walked back in, slipping them on so he felt more comfortable, leaving the bedroom for the kitchen to bring Tony something to drink. He had an extensive bar whose bottles all looked like they’d been open at some point, and very little actual food from what Bruce could see as he opened the fridge, hoping for a bottle of something like Gatorade. Instead he just grabbed a glass for water and returned to Tony, who was sitting up tenderly, discarding his phone on the bed beside him. 

“I ordered pizza,” Tony said as he handed him the glass. “I know, pizza is kind of lame, but this is really good. It’s owned by some hippy guy and this one I got – it’s all veggies – it has this pesto swirl that –”

“Hey,” Bruce interrupted his clearly nervous babble as he sat down beside him. “Pizza is fine. It’s perfect.  _ You _ were perfect.”

Tony stared into the glass and Bruce took it from him even though he hadn’t had a single sip, setting it on the table and then reaching out his arms for him, and Tony collapsed into them gratefully, pressing his face into his chest. 

“I’m sorry. I'm a mess,” he muttered and Bruce held him for a minute, running his fingers through his hair gently. 

“I’m a mess too,” he said at last and Tony kind of chuckled and he heard him sniffle even though he didn’t think he was actually crying. 

“I think I’ve got you beat on this one buddy.”

“You might be surprised,” Bruce teased, though he was fairly sure Tony didn’t believe him at all. 

They lay there for a minute together and although Bruce wondered what was locked up in his head, he knew now wasn’t the time to ask. And so he just kissed his head and stroked his back and his neck and his shoulders, just listened to him breathing, decided to just be there for him as he dealt with whatever it was in the privacy of his own mind.

“Will you –” Tony swallowed nervously. “Will you spend the night?”

“I –” 

Bruce paused. There were a thousand reasons why he couldn’t do that on his tongue. He had an early test tomorrow and he hadn’t brought any clothes with him and they didn’t really know each other that well and – 

But he didn’t say any of it. Instead he just said – 

“Sure.”

And Tony looked up at him then, offering him a tentative smile. “Yeah?” 

Bruce smiled back. “Yeah. But I’ve got to leave pretty early. I didn’t bring any clothes and if my students don’t call me on it my peers sure as hell will.” 

“Okay,” Tony said, flashing him a real, genuine grin, before hiding it away again quickly by cuddling back into his chest. “I get up pretty early anyway.”

He ran his fingers across the thick mat of hair on Bruce’s chest with obvious affection and Bruce couldn’t help the way holding him so tenderly like that made him feel. Tony was an enigma and he scared him but it didn’t diminish any of the feelings he had developing inside of him for the other man. Spending the night here was a sure fire way to shoot himself in the foot but he couldn’t tell him no. He just couldn’t.

“I don’t want to be alone again. Not tonight,” Tony confessed quietly and Bruce tightened his arms around him reflexively, wishing he could protect him from every bad thing that plagued his thoughts. 

“You won’t be,” he whispered back, knowing that was all he could do.


	5. Chapter 5

“Am I happy with the outcome?  _ Hell yeah _ I am.” 

Bruce stared down at his phone screen, watching Tony on the news. After the weekend the jury deliberated another day and a half before returning a guilty verdict and sentence of seventy-five years with no parole, essentially a life sentence for the fifty-eight year old man who had been on trial. Tony looked good – he always looked good – but he also looked angry as he shielded his client from the media by taking all the questions directed towards her on the steps of the court house.

“Look, we’re talking about a man who systematically preyed on a young girl her entire life until she saw no way out but taking her own life. Nothing is going to bring my client’s daughter back – ever. But here today this jury has made sure that any other little girls he may have preyed on will know justice was served.”

Bruce’s stomach felt sick as he watched Tony spit the words with barely contained venom. 

“Are you happy with the sentencing?” a reporter asked and Tony blinked like he was surprised.

“It’s a death sentence in all but name only,” Tony laughed, but it wasn’t a nice laugh.

“So you would advocate for the death penalty if it were possible?” a different reporter asked and Tony kind of grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Look – personally? I don’t believe in the death penalty. But when this asshole dies in prison, I won't lose sleep.”

“Is that the case with that guy who raped that girl for like fifteen years?” 

Bruce slammed down his phone and looked up at Peter standing over his shoulder. 

“Jesus Ch – Peter,” Bruce admonished, pressing a hand to his chest as he caught his breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Oh,” he said, a little chagrined. “I thought you heard me come up behind you. You must have been following that case pretty close to get that absorbed.”

“I – no, actually,” Bruce replied as he picked back up his phone and killed the video stream. “I actually – I know the lawyer.”

“Tony  _ Stark _ ?” Peter asked, surprised, and Bruce tried not to give away too much with a smile as he nodded.

“You follow a lot of court cases?” Bruce asked with a teasing grin and Peter kind of shrugged. 

“Yeah, actually – I thought about going pre-law.”

“Pre-med was your  _ second _ choice?” Bruce asked and he nodded as Bruce laughed and another student wandered in, a few minutes early. 

“Hey, I gotta make a call, okay?” Bruce said. “Tell people class isn’t cancelled if I’m a few minutes late. You’ve still got a test.”

Peter groaned as Bruce left and stepped into the hall and the throng of people making their way to class. But all he could think about was Tony, that case hitting too close to home, snuggling in bed with him as they ate pizza and drank beer and watched old episodes of  _ Star Trek _ , and his voice as he banged out  _ I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you _ ...

He just needed to hear his voice, make sure he was okay. 

“So you do know how a phone works?” Tony said as he answered and Bruce breathed a deep sigh of relief, not really sure he was going to pick up. That interview had been recorded earlier that day but Bruce had no idea what happened after a case was wrapped up. 

“Yeah I was just thinking – what are you doing tonight?”

“I –” Tony faltered and sighed. “I have a bunch of shit I have to go over. I’m sorry. I’m not really like – an available kind of guy.”

“That’s okay,” Bruce replied, “I’m going to be grading tests. Let me bring you over some dinner and ice cream.”

Tony laughed but it was clearly a cover for how awkward he felt about that. “What, so you can sit there and listen to me ramble to myself like an idiot?” 

“Is that a breach of client confidentiality?” Bruce asked in a teasing tone though it was a serious question. 

“No I just – really? You want to do that?” Tony sounded like couldn’t believe it.

“I want to see you, yes. Even if you can’t give me your complete and undivided attention.”

“To be fair to you, I rarely give  _ anyone _ my undivided attention,” Tony joked and Bruce grinned on the other end, knowing he’d succeeded. 

“When will you be home? I head out of here by six on Tuesdays, usually,” Bruce offered and Tony sighed. 

“I should be home in an hour and I’ll be real fucking unhappy if I have to go back out.” 

“Okay, cool. Let me know if you do have to go back out but otherwise, it’s a date,” he said with a smirk he was pretty sure Tony heard.

“Real exciting date,” Tony muttered as he hung up and Bruce went back to class.

But he did as he said he would, placing a big order at his favorite sushi place and picking up a few different pints of Ben and Jerry’s at the corner store across the street before Lyfting down to Tony’s.

The same security guard was in the lobby when he got there and even though he clearly recognized him – it had been all of four days since he’d last been here – he still made Bruce shuffle all of his bags and take out his ID. He tried not to show him how pissed that made him though. He hoped to be coming here a lot more frequently and he didn’t need to get off on the wrong foot with the guy. Vaguely he wondered how the guy had ever gotten the nickname ‘Happy.’

He struggled with the elevator as well as Tony’s doorbell, but when he saw the absolute look of relief on Tony’s face he knew it was worth it and that he’d made the right decision.

“Wow!” Tony said as he took some of the bags from him and carried them into the kitchen with Bruce on his heels. “What did you get?” 

“Sushi,” Bruce replied as they set the bags down and before Tony had a chance to say anything else, he grabbed him around the waist and pulled him into a kiss. 

Tony melted into his arms, holding him back and kissing him gratefully for a long minute before Bruce pulled away, palming his cheek. 

“I just had to get that out of the way,” he said with a warm smile, “so now I can leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

“Good!” Tony replied with one of his genuine laughs, jabbing him in the waist and using his surprise to slip out of his arms and get some plates. 

Bruce just grinned at him and opened the boxes on the counter. It felt pretty domestic, in a good way, as he put up the ice cream and Tony got them drinks and they doled out plates of sushi for themselves, sitting at his heavy, modern, dark wood dining room table that Bruce was sure saw very few actual meals.

They sat on the corner together and Tony slathered his piece in wasabi and took an appreciative bite. 

“Man, this is good!” he said with a big smile and Bruce smiled back softly, happy that he was able to make Tony smile after how strained he’d looked on the steps of the courthouse that morning. “Of course, I don’t think I ate all day...”

“I’m sure you were busy,” Bruce said and Tony nodded as he slipped another piece in his mouth. 

He knew what he wanted to bring up, what he wanted to ask, but he just wasn’t sure how to say it. 

“I saw you this morning – your interview.”

Tony paused, just a slight thing but Bruce saw it, before he picked up another piece and ate it. 

“I don’t really watch my own publicity,” he said mildly but Bruce took note. 

Still – he had to ask, he had to know. It wasn’t... Maybe it was a little morbid, his curiosity, but if they were going to continue their sexual relationship the way they had been, Bruce didn’t want to be caught off guard like that again. 

“I’m glad they found him guilty,” Bruce said carefully, feeling the tension rise between them as he picked at Tony's rough edges. 

“Yeah,” Tony said, his eyes guarded as he looked up at him briefly then back at his plate and his wooden chopsticks.

“I read about it, you know, how long –”

“What the fuck?” Tony asked at last, the words coming out venomous but Bruce didn’t even flinch. “I didn’t agree to this to do the celebrity lawyer bit for you.”

“I know,” Bruce said calmly, because that wasn’t his intention at all. 

“Then what? I really don’t want to fucking talk about it – it’s done.”

Bruce took a moment – Tony was already angry so he might as well get it over with. Say what he needed to say. 

“Is it?” he asked quietly. “I have a feeling it’s never over for you.” 

Tony dropped the chopsticks on the table and leaned back in his seat, dragging one hand through his hair while the other tapped the table angrily. 

“No, you’re right, you win, it’s not, it’s never over, I’ll die and I’ll still be thinking about this monster. Happy?”

Bruce looked at him as evenly as possible. He wanted to touch him, ground him, give him some form of affection but he was afraid it would backfire given how his hackles were raised, ready for a fight. But there was no way around it. He had to know.

“Because you were abused as a child.”

Tony stared at him for a moment and then laughed. 

“No. I mean, not like that. My dad was absent even when he was there but – no.”

Bruce was genuinely shocked to hear that reply and he just stared, blind-sided. He was so sure, he just – 

“Really?” he asked and Tony picked back up his chopsticks, shrugging a little as he pinched another piece of sushi. 

“You hate being wrong that bad, huh?”

“No, I – I’m sorry, I’m glad you weren’t, obviously, but...” 

He felt uneasy, like something wasn’t right. The way Tony had said those things felt so personal. If he hadn’t experienced it then... Why was it so personal?

“My uncle – well, he wasn’t really my uncle but my dad was so close to him I called him my uncle – he had a son who was a few years older than me.”

Bruce found the change of subject jarring so he just listened, watched Tony swab wasabi on a piece of sake, take a sip of his beer, chewing the nigiri deliberately. 

“We grew up together, you know, I really idolized him. Obie was – confident and strong and he always had the best ideas and got invited to the best parties and all the girls loved him and I...”

Tony laughed like he was reminiscing but his smile was strained and Bruce saw his foot start bouncing on the carpet, a clear anxious tell. 

“I let him do a lot of shit to me I didn’t want to do,” Tony confessed and suddenly it started to make sense. “A  _ lot _ of shit. He gave me drugs I didn’t want to do but I did them anyway because I didn’t want to disappoint him. He took me to parties I didn’t want to be at but I went anyway, didn’t want to be Howard Stark’s limp-wristed little pansy boy.”

Bruce’s heart instantly went out to Tony, the sad look in his eyes that he tried to hide with a smile as he sipped his beer. 

“I mean I was sixteen by the time he started asking for other shit – you know. Sexual shit.” Tony coughed to cover up his embarrassment but it was pretty clear to Bruce. “I could have said no, really, or... I could have argued more. But, I mean, part of me was flattered, I thought – I don’t know, I was young and stupid and I thought he was into me, he just didn’t want to tell our dads or whatever, which I understood.

“But he was my first and I was just another willing participant for him.”

He could tell Tony didn’t want to be touched but still – it was hard for Bruce not to reach out, not to hold his hand, but he respected his space.

“It was all on his terms, every time, whenever he wanted it, and I just kind of convinced myself that it was enough to get him off, that I was really the one in control, that I could say no, could stop at any time, but...” 

He chuckled sadly as he took a swig of his beer. 

“Kids are stupid. Can you really say no when someone’s holding your head down on their dick so hard you can’t breathe?” 

“Hey,” Bruce said at last, softly, but Tony brushed it away, still not looking at him. 

“So no – I wasn’t abused as a child. I wasn’t – I didn’t have it that bad.” 

Tony was angry again and Bruce felt guilty for asking the way he had, for making that assumption, when Tony clearly didn’t like to draw the comparison. It was pretty clear he  _ was _ raped, whether he wanted to say it that way or not, but if he was going to put it on a scale like that, then no, it wasn’t ‘that bad.’ But still – it was bad enough. 

“But sometimes, you know – I get – I feel like I can understand, a little bit. And I think about Obie and what it was like, how much I looked up to him and how easy it was for him to convince me to do shit I didn’t want to do and I get so fucking mad at people who abuse a child’s trust like that.”

“That’s completely understandable,” Bruce said and finally Tony looked over at him. 

“I don’t tell people this shit, you know?” he said and his voice was hard, almost a threat. “It’s not their fucking business why I do what I do.” 

“Of course –”

“I’m a damn good lawyer and that’s why I win cases.”

“I know –”

“And I challenge anyone who says otherwise to sit across the aisle from me and try their fucking best.”

“Tony,” Bruce said solidly as Tony glowered, puffed up and defensive, more like he was ready to take down an offensive line than he was an opposing defense lawyer. “I’m truly sorry I made an incorrect assumption but I asked so that I know better what kind of scenes might trigger you and how to deal with it if they do.”

Tony seemed completely confused by that but he slowly deflated as he tried to figure it out – and then Bruce saw the blush creeping up his neck. 

“Oh my god,” he mumbled out, covering his face with one hand and laughing. 

Bruce let himself smile a little too, glad Tony was relaxing again, that his real intentions put him at ease. 

“I’m so used to people just – fuck. I’m sorry. I thought – I just didn’t want to be wrong about someone  _ again _ , you know?” 

Bruce finally brushed his arm with his fingertips then, briefly, a show of sympathy and understanding.

“It’s okay, I knew it was going to be sensitive but – you scared me a little last time and I, well... I should have just asked then,” Bruce admitted, feeling a little dumb but really, it wasn’t an appropriate time when he was emotionally compromised like that. “But I didn’t want to upset you any more than you already were.”

“Yeah,” Tony admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “that was a bad day. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you but – I told you. I’m a mess.”

“It’s okay, I won’t be worried – next time.” Bruce gave him a confident smile and picked up another piece of sushi, showing him he really was fine. “I want to be a safe space for you to express yourself when it’s too much. I just wasn’t prepared for that – that’s all.”

“I should have warned you, I guess, I just... I really don’t like talking about it.” Tony’s face fell as he picked at piece of pickled ginger. “And no one has ever like... encouraged me to express myself like that.”

“Well I’m glad you told me because I –” Bruce swallowed hard, feeling stupid, “I really care about you.” He watched as Tony’s lips spread into a glowing smile as he said it, even though he was still staring at his plate. “And I like being able to do this with you – for you.”

“Yeah?” Tony asked, still not looking at him as he picked up another piece, carefully hiding himself from getting his hopes up and it kind of hurt to see Tony’s disbelief, but after being kicked around so many times it also kind of felt nice to be the one on the other end, the one someone wanted. 

“Yeah,” Bruce confirmed, leaning back in his seat a little, watching Tony eat. “In fact, if you are into the rope thing...”

Tony nodded vigorously and Bruce smiled. 

“I have an idea I want to try on you.”

Finally Tony looked over at him, his eyes shy and open, and Bruce smiled back, encouraging it. 

“But I don’t want you to masturbate for 48 hours beforehand.”

Tony’s face flushed bright red as he sputtered and nodded, squirming in his seat as he looked away, trying to compose himself. 

“You know I really do have work I need to do tonight,” he said at last and Bruce laughed, more than pleased it took so little to get such a positive reaction out of him.

“I’ll be good,” Bruce teased as he polished off his beer. 

And he was. He switched topics to midterms and the test he’d just given as Tony listened and picked at the remaining pieces in the boxes on the counter that he wanted and put the rest in the fridge. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have any tea,” he said belatedly as Bruce grabbed his bag and they moved to his office. 

“That’s okay,” Bruce said, impressed he actually even remembered him saying that he drank tea as he graded papers. “I thought I would try your method tonight.”

Tony gave him a fond smile as they walked in and it was pretty clear Tony already had his area spread out before him. His office was large, probably meant to be the second bedroom, and there were two oversized plush armchairs flanking the window along the wall, bookcases mounted halfway up most of the tall walls and stuffed completely with books of all description – a lot of law of course but also Bruce noted with amusement a collector’s edition of  _ The Hobbit _ next to hardbacks of  _ Harry Potter _ and Gene Wolfe’s  _ New Sun _ . On the opposing wall he had a long corner desk with two computers, both with large, oversized monitors, a recording program running on one, and boxes of paper files on the floor, a whole stack of which was spread out across the desk in some fashion Bruce was sure made sense to Tony and Tony alone.

Bruce took one of the seats, realizing with delight that it was a recliner, and pulled out the entirely-too-large stack of papers he had to go over. He really thought, being a chem professor, there wouldn’t be  _ that _ much grading. It wasn’t like he was ever going to assign an essay. But still – between tests and labs, it was more than enough.

“I warned you,” Tony said over his shoulder as he stood over his desk, the chair discarded on the other side of the room under a stack of manila folders, “I am sure I sound like a crazy person. It’s just my process.”

“I assure you,” Bruce said, having actually lived with a so-called crazy person, “I’ve heard worse.”

He was clearly nervous at first but after a while of Bruce’s complete lack of comment he sunk into his zone and forgot about him. For Bruce, it was actually pretty enlightening, and he would look up after each test he got through and watch as Tony flipped through papers, speaking every thought that came to him out loud. At one point Bruce realized he had some kind of keyboard shortcut set up that would flip between recording files for when he was putting together a cohesive thought between several pieces of information versus when he was just reading out the important parts as he scanned them or cursing his interns for missing some detail. 

Bruce found himself smiling to himself as he worked – something he wasn’t sure he’d ever done while grading papers before. This was... nice. Working with Tony like this. It added to the feeling of domesticity that dinner had and he liked it. A lot. He was sure based on how often Tony apologized for it that people he had dated in the past were resentful of how much time he spent working, and Bruce couldn’t blame them, he was sure he would get irritated by it sooner or later even despite his own demanding job but... He liked this too.

At a certain point Bruce realized Tony was actually flipping between two cases – one that involved a drunk driver and one that had to do with a child who’d drowned in a swimming pool, and the details he’d gleaned from both were more than enough to make him try to tune Tony out even harder.

So he was pretty absorbed in his own work when after an hour or so Tony asked what flavor he wanted. 

“I – I’m sorry?” Bruce asked, realizing that Tony was looking at him but having no idea what he said. 

“Wow, you really  _ can _ block shit out, huh?” Tony’s grin was amused but also clearly relieved. 

“I have some experience,” Bruce admitted and Tony looked over at the top test on his slowly diminishing stack. 

“Ugh, chemical reactions,” he muttered, then looked up at Bruce. “I was asking – what ice cream flavor do you want?” 

“They’re all good,” Bruce said, then offered, “maybe the Cherry Garcia?”

“Be right back,” Tony said as he slipped out of the room and Bruce took a deep breath.

This was just... so nice. He hadn’t planned on it and he knew he shouldn’t, but he also knew if Tony asked him to spend the night again, he would. And he kind of hated how betrayed he felt by his own heart then when his brain kept telling him to take it slow, to appreciate every little thing, not to rush and screw it up like he always did, because it was only a matter of time before Tony got bored of him too but... 

Unknowingly or not, Tony kept giving him everything he wanted.

He grinned as he walked back in with two pints stacked on top of each other and two spoons in his other hand. 

“You did get all the best flavors,” Tony said as he handed him his with a smile. “Though I am partial to Chocolate Fudge Brownie. It’s really satisfying to pick at those hunks of brownie while going through this shit.”

Bruce chuckled at that, staring up at him with unreserved affection. 

“I really admire what you do, you know,” he said as he peeled off the lid of the pint and Tony cocked his head curiously. “The kinds of cases you take and the people you advocate for.”

“It’s easy when it’s the right thing to do. Anyone would take these cases – I’m just better at winning them.” 

He winked at Bruce, that cocky, confident grin spread across his face, peeling the lid off his own pint. 

“It – I understand how it can be really personal,” Bruce continued, self-conscious but feeling like he owed Tony something after how he’d divulged that little bit of his past to him earlier. “I mean, I had a really bad home life – like spent time with foster families until my mom got me back kind of bad – and, it’s just...”

Tony had set his own ice cream on the table beside the chair and then took Bruce’s and set it down too, picking up the stack of tests in his lap and then climbing into the chair with him, straddling his thighs. 

“Don’t try to make me feel sorry for you,” Tony said quietly as he settled into his lap, putting his hands around the back of his neck, and Bruce balked. 

“I’m not –”

But Tony cut him off by kissing him and Bruce felt himself melt down into the seat, wrapping his arms around Tony and kissing him back. The pressure in his lap was nice but it wasn’t heated, it was just... It just felt good. Like they didn’t have to talk about it. Like Tony didn’t care. Like he understood.

“I thought you were supposed to be working?” Bruce teased as he repositioned his mouth against Tony’s, pausing for an answer. 

“But you were just sitting here, looking so cute and pathetic...”

“Cute?” Bruce asked, perplexed, and Tony chuckled. 

“That’s the one that surprised you?” Tony asked, his lips soft against his as he kissed him again.

Bruce’s chest suddenly felt too small to contain everything inside as he held Tony close to him, his hands reveling in the warmth beneath his palms, how alive Tony felt, how physical, how near. He missed this. Just this. He missed being with someone like this. He – 

“A lawyer’s work is never done,” Tony murmured as he pulled away. “At least – not a good one.”

Bruce grinned up at him, touching his face gently before Tony climbed off of him, setting his tests back in his lap and reclaiming his pint of ice cream. 

“Should be the perfect softness now,” he joked as he stabbed his spoon into the center, looking for a hunk of brownie. 

Bruce just sat there mesmerized for a minute, feeling lucky just to be there, with him, like this. It was just happenstance that he ran into him but... 

He didn’t care if it was because he was lonely or he was compromised or whatever – he liked Tony. A lot. And whyever that was, it didn’t matter – what he felt for him was still honest and all encompassing and he – 

He swallowed. He took a deep breath. He forced himself to slow down as he picked up his own pint of ice cream. He was left before and he would be left again, it was only a matter of time. 

So he studied the way Tony flipped back and forth through pieces of paper. Watched as he moved between computers, taking notes – “have Shuri reassess the timeline, where exactly was grandma, the greenhouse or the kitchen?” Watched the way he dug into his ice cream as he pored over notes. 

Bruce graded his tests and he picked at his ice cream and was careful not to get Tony’s attention, careful not to alert him to the fact that he was done and he should really leave because he just... didn’t want to. But he knew it was better, better to leave Tony wanting him than to wear out his welcome. 

Quietly he packed up his bag and set down his empty container, standing and walking across the room to Tony, touching his back and then wrapping his arms around him. Tony paused his recording and leaned back into him. 

“I should go,” he murmured in his ear, kissing the edge of it and Tony sighed, reaching for his hands and pulling them around him even closer. 

“I know.”

He sounded disappointed and Bruce pressed his face into the back of his neck. 

“I want to see you soon,” he whispered, feeling selfish, but he also felt Tony’s hands tighten on his own. 

“Me too.” 

He turned then so that he could kiss him and Bruce grinned, so happy he could hardly stand it.

“I’ve got a ton of work,” he confessed as he leaned back in Bruce’s arms, clearly thinking of when he could pencil him in. “Fuck – maybe Sunday?” 

“Any time,” Bruce agreed, kissing him again. 

“I’ll have to move some stuff around so I’ll text you,” Tony said, sighing and Bruce cupped his face in his hand, running his thumb against his cheek and staring into his pretty eyes in the dim room, feeling so vulnerable and wide open merely looking across at those brown eyes and he couldn’t help it – he loved that Tony made him feel that way. He hadn’t felt that way in so long. It was intoxicating. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, kissing him again, softly, tenderly, before he grabbed his bag and his empty container and left Tony to his long, lonely night of work.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been quite a while since Bruce had visited a sex shop but he actually went out and purchased various lengths of rope just for Tony. If he was honest with himself, it was a little more thrilling than he’d anticipated. Rarely had he ever planned out a scene like this for a specific partner. Despite the fact he and Nat were in it together, their actual sex life was extremely vanilla as, for various reasons, neither one wanted to sub for the other. So primarily when he bought stuff it was to pad out his kit and have on hand. But now... 

He loved the black rope Tony had used on himself and he bought more than was truly necessary, knowing that from here on out he would think of it as Tony’s. And he bought a sleek black curved vibrator specifically for him too. He had a couple that would have worked but... it felt special. He tried not to think too much about that and what it meant though as he took his purchases home and prepared his kit for Sunday. 

But then when Sunday rolled around an hour before he was supposed to head out there Tony called. And immediately Bruce heard the frustration in his voice and he braced himself for disappointment. 

“I can’t do tonight. My fucking client is about to make the biggest mistake of his young dumb life if I don’t get over there right now and talk him down.”

Bruce swallowed hard, feeling it keenly in the pit of his stomach. 

“I understand.”

He tried to keep his voice light and easy going because he did understand and he didn’t want to make Tony feel worse – but it was difficult. 

“I just really fucking – Christ,” Tony muttered out. “I’m sorry – I warned you. I’m not a fun guy to date.”

“Hey, it’s fine – really,” Bruce said as earnestly as possible. “I completely understand.”

“I’ll wave at your apartment as I pass,” Tony said with a sigh and Bruce stopped a moment and thought about that. 

“You could come here,” he offered tentatively before Tony had a chance to say goodbye. It was clear he didn’t want to, the way he was hanging on to the dead air on the phone line – which Bruce thought was particularly adorable. 

“What?” Tony asked stupidly and Bruce figured he must really be stressed about his client to ask like that. 

“I know your place is at least twenty minutes from here so he must be across town if you’re passing by here,” Bruce explained. “If it doesn’t take as long as you are expecting and you still wanna, you know,  _ play _ – then just come by here.”

“I appreciate that but I have no idea what kind of shitshow I’m walking into and –”

“I know,” Bruce interrupted. “I’m not trying to pressure you at all, I’ve got plenty to occupy myself with on a Sunday night without you.” 

It was a tease but he heard Tony huff at the thought of that.

“Just, you know, if it works out. If you want to. But I’ll assume you’ll just text me to reschedule later in the week.”

In fact, he assumed no such thing, but he really didn’t want to pressure Tony. Not to mention he was pretty sure his apathy would only make the offer more appealing. 

“Yeah, I’ll let you know,” Tony said, clearly disappointed. “Thanks for being so cool about it.”

“Of course,” Bruce assured him as they said goodbye and hung up. 

But it wasn’t even three hours later before his call box buzzed and Bruce grinned, knowing there was only one person who could be at his door at eight thirty on a Sunday night.

Bruce bolted down the five flights of stairs to meet him, having tidied his place and brushed his teeth and put on nicer than average Sunday night lounging clothes in anticipation of Tony’s arrival. He knew he was setting himself up for brutal disappointment if Tony didn’t show but he wouldn’t let himself believe that was going to be the case. 

As soon as he opened the door to the hall Tony pushed inside and threw his arms around him, kissing him solidly on the mouth and Bruce held him back, feeling his body relax into his instantly, loving the way Tony responded to him so easily, so willingly. It was part of their game but it was also something else. Bruce knew it. He had to believe it.

“You knew I was going to come,” Tony accused breathily, his eyes dropping from his face to his shirt and Bruce smiled shyly. 

“I hoped.”

Tony kissed him again and Bruce felt all his own anxiety fall away too because Tony was there. He was there. He’d come for him.

But he pulled away, allowing himself to put horrible distance between him and Tony to get him upstairs where he could indulge himself more. 

“Christ,” Tony muttered, “I knew this building was old but you walk up these stairs every day?” 

Bruce laughed. “Sometimes  _ more _ than once a day.”

Tony grinned at him but Bruce could tell he was struggling a little, which surprised him and made him feel somewhat guilty – not that he’d picked this place however many years ago just to spite Tony. But they did eventually make it to the top and he opened the door to his little loft and watched Tony’s face morph from strained to somewhat awed, if not amused. 

Bruce’s place was far homier than Tony’s sleek, sparse penthouse. His place was really the cheapest top floor apartment in the city, probably, but he loved it. The kitchen was right there to the left as you entered and then a small dining table to the right. And beyond that was the living area placed beneath a lofted bed, stuffed with his stereo equipment and bookshelves and an oversized, plush couch. The bathroom was there under the stairs and everything was oddly shaped because of the roof but the skylights over the bed and the view of the city out of the large round window set in the rough brick wall by the dining area was divine.

But everything he owned was old and second hand and decorative and ornate, all the warm tones and curves and artistry pleasing to him. He also had philodendron and pothos and aloe and cactus in glazed pots and his chunky orange cat he referred to simply as ‘cat’ lounged on the couch and it was just, in general, a very different vibe. 

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” Tony said at last and Bruce gave him a curious look, unsure whether that was approval or not – not that it  _ really _ mattered, but he did want Tony to be comfortable.

“Well, I’ll tell you, this is pretty good for my illustrious salary,” Bruce teased and Tony grinned, punching him in the shoulder. 

“It’s just – so warm,” Tony confessed and Bruce laughed. 

“Do you want something to drink? Or...?” 

“I’m good,” Tony confirmed, almost seeming shy as he looked over at him, gripping the handle on his bag a little tightly. “But could I use your bathroom?” 

“Of course,” Bruce said, pointing it out. “What’s mine is yours.”

Despite the fact that Tony said he wanted nothing, Bruce still made a plate with cheese and crackers and grapes and filled two bottles with water for later and took his snacks up to set them on the bedside table. Then he went back down to meet Tony as he came out of the bathroom, pausing before him, nerves on overdrive for no reason other than his not very small or indiscreet crush on Tony.

But Tony wasn’t as shy as he was and he leaned into him, wrapping his hands around the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. 

“Not to be – whatever,” he said as he pulled away, a funny little smile on his face, “but do you think you could change this depressing music?”

Bruce blinked and then laughed. 

“‘Anthem’ isn’t depressing,” he argued but he moved over to the stereo to pick something else. 

He was something of an audiophile and had a pretty intense speaker setup that if you weren’t into what you were listening to, would be overwhelming. Especially in the small space. It reached everywhere.

“Well he does have a sexy voice,” Tony said as he came up behind him, looking over his equipment, and Bruce laughed though he was pretty sure Tony wasn’t kidding. 

“Okay, no more Leonard Cohen for you,” he joked back as he put in  _ Comfort Woman _ instead.

Bruce led him up to his bed as the otherworldly synthetic sounds and deep bass of the soul album filled the small apartment and Bruce realized belatedly how many times she used the word love on this album as her warm voice rasped over the opening lyrics and he hoped Tony wouldn’t read too much into that. 

He kissed him deeply as they reached the landing, pulling his shirt from his pants and running his hands up his body, appreciating Tony’s simple physicality and the fact that he was there more than he could show him in words. 

“Your client isn’t going to call, is he?” Bruce whispered against his lips as he undid Tony’s belt, feeling his phone in his pocket. 

“No,” Tony breathed, “he’s supposed to call Wanda first. She couldn’t get him to listen tonight but I’ll fucking murder anyone who –”

“Shh,” Bruce pushed gently as he kissed him again, wanting to take all of this away from him – work and his frustrations. But he also didn’t want to do what he was going to do if the possibility existed that Tony was going to have to leave at a moment’s notice. 

Tony’s pants fell to his feet and he didn’t bother to retrieve his phone and Bruce took that as a good sign as he ran his fingers through Tony’s hair, twisting his fist in it. 

“What do you want?” Bruce asked, softly but firmly, and Tony sighed into him like a physical thing. 

“Dominate me.” 

Unlike every time before, the words fell so easily from his lips that Bruce was overcome. Tony was growing to trust him. His chest felt so full he thought it might burst as he kissed him again, hard, like he could impress those words upon his own lips and remember how it felt forever. 

Slowly he removed the rest of Tony’s clothes, kissing his body as he went, his chest, his shoulders, his arms, his neck, until he was naked and breathing deeply. Bruce instructed him to sit on the bed and he did as he asked, staring up into his eyes with absolute trust, and Bruce could have sworn his heart actually skipped a fucking beat when he saw that look.

Bruce cupped his face with his hand, stroking his thumb along his cheekbone, studying his handsome features. 

“This is going to take some time,” he told him. “I need you to tell me if anything is too tight or you are uncomfortable because you’re going to be in these ties for a while.” 

Tony shivered but he also nodded dutifully.

“Tell me,” Bruce commanded a little more firmly. “I need you to communicate with me, okay?” 

“Yes,” Tony said, his voice coming out a little thick considering they hadn’t actually  _ done _ anything yet and Bruce felt that all through his chest.

“Tell me immediately if your hands start going numb,” Bruce said as he picked up the longest rope off the bed and settled himself in behind Tony. “I’m pretty experienced but you know your body better than me.”

“Not for long,” Tony teased and Bruce paused, smirking behind his back as he grasped his arm.

Carefully he laid his arms together behind his back, placing the initial binding of the basic gote shibari a little loosely in the center of his arms. It didn’t have to be tight – by the time Bruce was finished Tony wouldn’t be able to move his arms from behind his back, but he still needed to be able to move enough to be comfortable and maintain circulation.

“Squeeze my fingers,” Bruce commanded, placing them in his hands and feeling Tony squeeze. 

He kissed the back of his neck as he brought the rope around his shoulder. 

“I want to take care of you,” he said as he wrapped it around his chest twice and he heard Tony sigh, no longer having a smart comment. 

He knotted it in the back and adjusted the tension, wrapping it back around his chest, lower this time, tying it in the back. 

“I want you to be comfortable too,” he explained as he wrapped the rope around itself beneath his arms, tightening it so he wouldn’t be able to get out. 

Tony was slowly wilting over as he relaxed and Bruce chuckled. 

“Sit up straight,” he said firmly and Tony repositioned himself as Bruce finished the third knot down his back before placing his fingers in Tony’s hands again and asking him to squeeze, checking his pressure, satisfied nothing was too tight. 

Then he brought the rope back up his back and over his shoulder, slipping off the bed and standing in front of him, inspecting his handiwork. The black rope was especially beautiful on Tony’s skin and he couldn’t wait to see the harness completed. 

He ran the rope down across Tony’s chest, securing it on the lower one, twisting it around itself and creating a beautiful Y shape down the center of his chest and tying it off in the back again. 

“You’re beautiful,” Bruce told him as he slipped two fingers under the Y, jerking him forward a little. 

Despite the fact that he knew Tony liked compliments, having it said so directly to his face in such a vulnerable position embarrassed him and he lolled his head to the side. Bruce smiled faintly, grasping his face and kissing his exposed cheek and nosing his ear. 

“Beautiful,” he repeated in his ear where he couldn’t hide from it and he felt Tony’s breath hitch.

He made sure there were pillows behind him so the pressure of the knots along his back and the weight on his arms wouldn’t be too intense and Bruce helped him lay back into the bed, picking up a shorter rope and sitting on the edge of the bed as he bent his knee and tucked his ankle up against his butt. 

“Is this okay?” he asked and he watched Tony’s breathing pick up when he realized he wasn’t done. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out as Bruce repositioned his leg a little further from his body to start the tie on his futomomo.

“I’m going to dominate you,” Bruce told him casually as he pressed his leg back in closer to his body and began wrapping the rope around his leg in a series of evenly spaced loops. 

“You’re not going to be able to move,” he continued as he made a series of elegant knots down the inside of his leg and Tony let his head fall backwards into the pillows, exposing his beautiful throat. 

“You're just going to have to lay there and take it,” he added, moving to the outside of his leg, watching as the muscles in Tony’s arms tensed against the bonds they were in, the way his fists clenched just because of what Bruce was saying. 

“And you’re going to cum for me, over and over again,” he said as he made the final tie, slipping the small remainder of rope down between the knots. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Tony moaned anxiously but then he lifted his head to look at him. “I – I can’t,” Tony replied, an earnest look in his eyes that Bruce had never seen before – like he was afraid of disappointing him. 

But Bruce just grinned back as he picked up another length of rope and moved further onto the bed, pausing between his legs and looking pointedly at his dick and then back up at him. 

“We’ll see.”

Tony closed his eyes and bit his lower lip, his jaw trembling as his hands worked at the pillow beneath him and Bruce moved to his other leg. 

There was extensive scarring on this one, a long zipper stitch down the center of it, and he paused as he bent it a little, watching Tony’s face carefully as he looked back up at him. 

“This one?” he asked and Tony sighed. 

“Just – looser,” he explained, tucking it in to where his range of motion stopped, several inches from where the other could bend to. “I was in a car accident a long time ago and it’s – it’s held together with pins and prayers.”

It clearly made Tony uncomfortable so Bruce didn’t press – the timing wasn’t right anyway – but suddenly his commentary on the stairs made sense. Bruce had obviously seen the scar but he didn’t realize it was such a traumatic injury. Certainly he didn’t have to hurt Tony to get the desired effect. Tony wasn’t going to try to go anywhere tonight – that he was sure of. 

He finished tying off Tony’s other leg and then he sat between them a moment, pressing them down, spreading his hips so he was open and exposed. Tied up in black rope he looked phenomenal in the dim light, a package created just for him that Bruce was eager to completely unwrap. He didn’t need to blindfold or gag him. This was perfect. Perfect. 

Carefully he moved out from between his legs and off the bed, making an unnecessarily long production of gathering what he needed simply to build Tony’s anticipation. In fact he didn’t need anything at all yet, but he brought the lube and vibrator over anyway before sitting on the bed with him, positioned at his hip. 

And gently, gently Bruce stroked a finger from his hip all the way up his side, watching as he tried to flinch away from the teasing touch, knowing it would tickle at first but forcing him through it. 

He moved his finger back down again and then back up just to the rope, up to where the worst scarring was and back down to his stomach. It was slow, methodical, intimate. But Bruce could tell when Tony started to let himself relax into it, when his dick started to swell with eager desire, and it made Bruce hard too. 

“Your skin never recovers from that kind of trauma,” Bruce said softly as he ran his finger against the scarring, knowing it was just dead nerves. “The nerves never grow back right.”

Tony swallowed hard but he didn’t say anything. Bruce let all of his fingers move back down Tony’s body together, listening and feeling as Tony breathed in hard as they approached the sensitive place between his hips but didn’t touch it. 

“But you feel it – don’t you?” Bruce murmured as they moved down, between his spread legs, down across his inner thighs, to the outside of his ass on their narrow trajectory around the parts of his body that Tony really  _ wanted _ touched. 

“You want it,” he continued, back up his side again, feeling all of his muscles tense in anticipation, waiting for him to go lower again.

“ _ Fuck _ yeah I do,” Tony sighed and Bruce smiled down at him fondly, wanting to kiss him but being patient. This part was important too. 

“You know,” he said at last, trailing his finger lightly up the crack of Tony’s ass, just barely brushing his balls, “I own you.”

Tony physically shuddered in the bindings as he said it and Bruce thought it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Knowing he did that, he caused that kind of reaction – it made his chest swell with pride and the desire to truly own him, body and soul. He moved back between Tony’s legs then, his touch becoming firm as he massaged his ass. 

“Relax,” he commanded as Tony moaned at the new touch, his legs spreading further for him until his knees almost touched the bed. 

“Breathe,” he said firmly as he ran his palms up the minimally exposed parts of his thighs, massaging them too, up to his hips, watching as Tony’s stomach sucked in.

“Breathe,” he repeated. “I’ve got you now. I own you. There’s nothing you need to worry about here.”

Tony did as he was told, breathing deeply, letting Bruce’s firm touch ground him in the infinite moment he created with his hands – no longer wanting, just being, just existing on the precipice between anticipation and acceptance – and Bruce watched as slowly, slowly his legs began to sink completely into the bed, his breathing grew easy, and his muscles relaxed completely under his touch. 

“Perfect,” he told him as he brought his hands back to his ass, positioning his hips upward a little more, Tony’s body completely limp and pliant in his hands. “This is how I want you. Just like this.”

And then he moved down to the bed, burying his face in Tony’s spread ass and running his tongue hard across it. He felt Tony take a quick breath of surprise but he released it all in a long, shuddering moan that made Bruce’s gut clench. Tony rocked his hips just a little to get better coverage but Bruce didn’t mind as he sucked at him, teasing him with his tongue, feeling his muscles contract and then relax, clearly wanting more. Bruce loved to be wanted like that, to know someone wanted him there, would give anything to keep him there. It was all he ever wanted so he overindulged Tony until his hips were rocking steadily against his face and each time he breathed he let it go with a whine and then Bruce pulled back, wiping his face and staring down at his gift – sweat already starting to glisten on his brow – and he smiled. 

He thought Tony was quite possibly the most perfect thing he had ever seen but he didn’t say it, didn’t want to risk increasing the tension when his body was spread out before him in that perfect state of relaxation. He needed him loose, ready to accept what Bruce was going to give him, and he grabbed the lube, dousing his fingers in it. 

“Stay like this,” he told him softly as he slid two fingers inside slowly, feeling his body expand around him. “Just feel it, okay? Let yourself go.”

He could tell Tony was trying to maintain even breathing and Bruce’s other hand stroked along his thigh in a comforting way, letting him know that Bruce was paying attention, watching how good he was doing staying relaxed. And he waited a minute until his fingers were sliding easily in and out of his body before he switched to locating his prostate. 

It was easy with him relaxed like this, his dick hard, having not come for several days, heavy and full and waiting for it. And carefully he let his fingers stroke up across it, listening to the deep intake of breath Tony couldn’t contain when he did. 

“Fuck,” Tony murmured but he maintained his composure. He met Bruce’s eyes just a moment with half-open lids before letting them fall closed again.

“I’ve got you,” Bruce promised again as he moved his fingers back over it, listening to Tony’s breath catch and relax, moving his free hand to his hip and applying a little pressure there as he hit it again. 

“You’re mine,” he rumbled low in his throat as he let his fingers begin massaging the area gently and Tony’s mouth fell open against the sensation, panting. 

Tony obviously had plenty of experience but Bruce could immediately tell no one had ever taken this kind of time with him. It was a travesty, really. When he was so keen, so receptive, so ready to be told exactly what to do... and when he needed it so bad. Tony was so worked up he couldn’t even answer a simple question about his past without thinking it was a direct attack. Couldn’t tell him what he wanted directly the first three times he’d asked. How could no one have cared enough to alleviate that pain for him? When he was so eager for it?

Bruce could feel the way his body changed as he approached orgasm and he pressed a little harder as he rotated his fingers against the sensitive flesh, feeling Tony’s hips rocking and gripping the curve of his hip with his other hand, stilling him just a little but not completely, knowing how it felt to be that wanton and needy and how good it felt to move into it. 

“Oh fuck,” Tony moaned as he pressed his head back further into the pillows. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh  _ god _ – fucking fucking –  _ fuck _ ...!” 

It was garbled nonsense but Tony gasped in and his hips tilted up and Bruce followed him with it, pressing hard circles into Tony as he moaned until his body physically jerked, hard, his good knee coming up and closing around Bruce’s hand, breaking his contact, shuddering down with the end of his climax. 

Bruce pulled his hand from his body slowly, watching as Tony relaxed easily again after orgasm, massaging his thighs as they spread open again, watching as his face fell slack again, his breathing growing deeper again, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes opened slowly, blown out with sedation and amazement. 

“What the fuck did you do to me?” he asked softly, stupidly, clearly having never cum without ejaculating before, and Bruce chuckled as he picked up the vibrator and opened the lube. 

“I told you,” Bruce replied, his voice gentle but firm, openly affectionate, “I own you. And I’m going to give you what you need.”

Bruce watched as Tony’s lips trembled at that and he couldn’t help himself – he moved to lean over his body, kissing him tenderly, just a little thing. He didn’t want to wreck the perfect state of relaxation they’d achieved but he couldn’t help kissing him. It was too much to ask of anyone.

But then he settled himself back between Tony’s legs, inserting the vibrator slowly as Tony adjusted to the girth. It wasn’t very big but it was still bigger than his fingers and so he went slow, added more lube, let him loosen up around it. The more relaxed he was the better it was going to be and Bruce knew that at first the sensation was going to be completely overwhelming so he needed Tony to relax and trust him. 

When he finally felt like Tony was comfortable, laying there willingly, breathing deeply, just accepting the way Bruce was fucking him slowly with the vibrator, no reaction – he changed the position of it, tilting it up and sliding it back into his body slowly until he hit his prostate again and Tony gasped. 

“Too much!”

“It’s okay,” Bruce said, letting it rest there without moving, letting Tony adjust to the pressure, running his thumb hard along his hip where his hand rested on it. “You’re okay. You’re going to take it for me, okay? You’re going to come for me again, okay?”

Tony was looking at him, looking into his eyes with a certain desperation, like he couldn’t believe that was going to happen, like he didn’t think he could. But Bruce just stared back with unwavering faith in him, knowing he could do it, wanting him to do it, to give him that, to completely fucking unravel him. 

“You just have to relax,” Bruce said, firm and confident, warm and loving. “Let yourself go. I’ll catch you. You’re safe here. Remember – you can use your safe word whenever you want but – you’re mine. And I  _ will _ catch you.”

He could see the effect his words were having on Tony, the way the guarded look in his eyes began to melt away again, the way his body began to relax again, his shoulders relaxing back into the pillows as he began to breathe deeply again, closing his eyes. 

“You’re mine,” Bruce whispered, barely audible over the music, more for himself this time than for Tony. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

And then he turned on the vibration. 

It was low at first, Bruce had angled it away so it wasn’t directly on him, and Tony groaned and whipped his head to the side and Bruce watched the way he swallowed, the way his neck strained and he wanted to dig his teeth in and suck on his neck and mark him as his but he knew – he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t jeopardize this level of trust for anything. 

Slowly he pressed the vibrator directly into his prostate and felt Tony’s hips buck against the onslaught. 

“Christ – I can’t – !” he whined but Bruce pressed his free hand down on his hip, holding it still this time, holding it there where he couldn’t escape it. 

“Relax,” he said. “Breathe.” And to his credit, Tony tried. 

He breathed in deep a few times, too quickly, but then as he adjusted to the sensation his breaths grew deeper and the strain in his thighs weakened. He gasped in hard, his mouth open, clearly still overwrought, but Bruce clicked up the vibration. 

“You've got it, lovely,” he mused as Tony began to whimper, working to keep his hips still but it was so much, too much. “You can do this. You deserve it. You’re so beautiful and you’re doing so well. You’re always so good. Just let go, Tony, I’m here for you.”

His words were like a metronome for Tony to focus on as his thighs began to tremble, as he began to cry out. 

“I  _ can’t _ ,” he said, his voice strained with the effort. 

“You can,” Bruce assured him, pressing his lips to his thigh as he held him there, as he turned up the vibration one last time. 

“God,  _ fuck _ , I’m  _ gonna _ –”

“That’s right, you can do it, cum for me handsome,” Bruce soothed, watching how his dick strained, how precum dripped against his abdomen, leading a sticky thread to his tip, making Bruce’s mouth salivate as he pressed the vibrator more directly against him. 

And when Tony came this time he completely fell apart. He yelled an incoherent note that sent a shiver up Bruce’s spine, his body curling up on itself completely, rolling onto his side as he cried out. His nerves jerked helplessly against the sensation and Bruce turned the vibrator off quickly to give him some relief. 

Tony was whimpering pitifully as Bruce pulled the vibrator out slowly, running a hand back through his own sweaty hair, feeling wrecked. Just listening to the little sounds Tony was making as he calmed down was nearly more than he could take. Watching him completely enraptured was so much. Too much. He hadn’t been planning on it exactly but now he wanted to fuck him so bad he ached for it and it was so selfish, so ridiculously selfish but he just – he wanted to be close to him. 

“Do you know what it is you do to me?” he accused despite himself as he slid off the bed, stripping out of his shirt as Tony finally stopped shaking. 

It wasn’t mean, but there was still a plaintive tone in Tony’s voice as he said his name, his face still tucked up in the pillow. 

“ _ Bruce _ ...”

He dropped his pants and slid open the drawer for a condom before he turned back to the gorgeous man in his bed, gently grasping his shoulder and pulling him back over. And Tony acquiesced slowly, refusing to look at him as Bruce ran his fingers down his neck, studying the chest harness and slipping his fingers under it, checking the tension. 

“You are the most perfect thing,” Bruce said, unable to keep the brutal honesty from his voice as he stared down at him, thoroughly and completely compromised by the scene, by watching how Tony came undone beneath his hands. “You deserve to feel just as good as you make me feel.”

“ _ Stop _ ,” he begged but Bruce only got closer, kissing his cheek, pressing his lips to his ear. 

“You are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, his warm breath in his ear, and Tony trembled again. The words just fell out of him in a way they never had before. “The most beautiful, the most charming, the most fun... Everything about you is perfect. You’re perfect.”

Tony’s whole body was shaking like he’d just fucked him again and Bruce grasped his chin and turned it towards him gently, kissing him on the mouth. 

“Look at me,” he asked softly and Tony did after a moment of hesitation, his large brown eyes slowly opening, meeting Bruce’s hesitantly. “Let me fuck you. Let me show you how good you make me feel.”

“ _ Christ _ . You – you can’t – you can’t  _ say _ things like that,” Tony managed at last and Bruce’s heart broke when he saw that even now, even like this, even after Bruce had tied him up and licked his ass and brought him off twice – he couldn’t believe him. 

So Bruce kissed him, trying to kiss away that look, trying to kiss away all his doubts. And he climbed back between his legs, slipping on the condom, slicking his dick in lube. And he slid his arm beneath Tony’s hips, lifting them just a little, using his other hand to position him so that he could slide into his warm, welcoming body. And as Tony shook with the sensation of it Bruce leaned over his body and kissed his chest, his stomach, each kiss a whispered confession of how deeply he felt for him.

He knew it was dangerous, that Tony didn’t feel the same way – or that if he did, it wasn’t as deep, it wasn’t like this, not yet – but Bruce couldn’t help it. He just – he loved him. Everything about him. He didn’t care what he didn’t know yet, he didn’t care what had happened in his past. Tony had reached out and touched a part of him he didn’t know could still feel like this and he was helpless. As helpless as if Tony had tied  _ him _ up like this, laid  _ him _ down in this bed, fucked  _ him _ until his whole body was shuddering and falling apart.

Tony’s eyes were glazed over and dazed as Bruce fucked him, staring at him with this look like he couldn’t even believe what was happening. He was whimpering and whining and biting it all back and Bruce stilled when he realized that, and he leaned forward further than was comfortable to give him a tender little kiss. 

“Tell me, Tony,” he said, not phrasing it like a request. “Tell me what you want. You’re safe here. You’re safe.”

He whined, his hands fighting at the binding in a way Bruce hadn’t anticipated, clutching at the pillows beneath him. 

“Touch me,” he said at last and Bruce was sure he didn’t mean his dick. “Hold me. Just – just – I can’t –”

Bruce slowed down completely, removing his arm from beneath his hips and instead lowering himself down on top of him, planting one arm down by his side to bear his weight as he lay his head on Tony’s chest and brought his other hand up against his stomach, spreading his fingers along his warm skin, pressing into it. His hips still moved slowly, rocking in and out of his body, each slow roll of his hips bringing him closer as he felt Tony breathing beneath him. 

“Fuck, Bruce, I can’t –” Tony was trying, trying to articulate how he felt and he was struggling but Bruce didn’t shush him, didn’t say anything at all, he just held him like he’d asked, listening to his heart pounding in his chest and feeling his body tremble beneath his cheek.

“I want you –  _ fuck _ . I want –” Tony swallowed hard and the way his voice cracked Bruce could tell he was going to start crying. “I  _ want _ to be yours. T-tell me – tell me I’m yours.” 

“You’re mine,” Bruce said as he drug his hand down Tony’s body to his dick, grasping it firmly and hearing him sob with relief and pleasure and pain. “I own you, Tony, and I’m going to take care of you for as long as you’ll let me. Just like this. Because you’re mine. Because you’re mine and I cherish you.” 

And for a brief moment Tony stopped crying and he shuddered instead as he came, no indication beforehand, nothing, just instant physical release and Bruce felt his cum hot across his belly and he moaned as he came too, triggered by Tony. Bruce’s hips rolled back into him one last time, his eyes rolling back in his head, feeling it wash over him like the tide, and he gasped Tony’s name, trying not to collapse into him completely. 

But Bruce only gave himself a moment to catch his breath before he pulled out of Tony, planting his other hand down beside him and kissing at his tears.

“My beautiful, beautiful man,” he whispered and then Tony began to cry in earnest and Bruce set to work untying him. 

He unbound his weak leg first, carefully stretching it out from the position it was in, rubbing up it with his hands to check for any tender spots though Tony gave no indication he was even aware of what Bruce was doing as he just pressed his face towards the pillow and cried. Bruce unbound his other leg then, helping him unbend it and then repeating the same quick inspection.

“I’m going to turn you over,” he murmured as he wiped him down and Tony nodded, helping him accomplish the task so Bruce could quick release the ropes at the initial tie around his wrists and slip them from around his body. 

“Fuck,” Tony sniffled into the pillow, stretching his arms a little but not crying so hard anymore, just laying there, catching his breath. 

And the throaty strains of Meshell Ndegeocello betrayed Bruce completely in the background as he slid into bed next to him, straight up against his body, staring at his closed eyes, lashes laced with tears, stroking his hair tenderly as she sang  _ I want love, to come lay down beside me _ ...

It was harder to say what he wanted to say now as he stared at Tony in his bed. He wanted – he wanted to say how thankful he was, how honored, how much he appreciated the trust Tony had in him. He wanted to tell him he wanted to lay there with him there every night. He wanted to tell him he loved him. 

But Bruce knew in the morning he’d regret it and would instead thank the lump in his throat from not allowing himself to do it. 

The cat came out of nowhere and sniffed around the bed with a look of disdain for the smell of lube and latex before curling up under Tony’s armpit and Bruce gasped in mock offense. 

“Traitor,” he accused in a hiss and Tony chuckled. 

“He likes me already,” Tony slurred and Bruce laughed too, stroking his hand through Tony’s hair and pulling it a little. 

“I like you more,” he said, kissing him and feeling Tony’s smile beneath his lips. 

“Good,” he said, his eyes still closed when Bruce pulled away to look at him again. “Because I’m not going to be able to drive anywhere after that.”

Bruce grinned, glad Tony wasn’t planning on leaving. He really didn’t want him to, but he wasn’t going to ask him to stay either. 

“But – can you get my phone?” 

For a moment Bruce’s heart warred with his head as he got up to retrieve Tony’s pants and pull the phone from them. Of course Tony was going to need to check his phone. It was stupid to expect otherwise. He was a popular and busy lawyer with a multitude of clients and it was ridiculous of Bruce to expect he was going to be able to divorce himself fully from work just to fall asleep with him.

But when he returned with it Tony didn’t even open his eyes. 

“Can you just check my notifications? See if Wanda texted me? Or – fuck. If anything looks disastrous? I can’t...” 

Bruce stared and was unable to stop the grin from bubbling up within him and spilling over his lips. Not only did Tony not want to think about work but he also trusted Bruce with that and he scanned the lock screen. 

“Wanda is just thanking you for whatever you did and Shuri says she wants to meet with you before you see the judge tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” Tony muttered, looking like he was going to sit up. 

So quickly Bruce added, “It looks like she set up a meeting reminder for eight am? Do you want me to just approve it?” 

“Fuck –  _ yes _ ,” Tony sighed, relaxing back into the pillows. “Do that.”

He clicked approve and then set Tony’s phone down by his head where he could reach it easily if he wanted before slipping his knees over his hips and pressing his weight down on his ass. 

“Bruce,” Tony warned him carefully but Bruce just laughed a little. 

“Relax,” he told him, a tease in his tone as he pressed his palms into his shoulders, running circles along his neck with his thumbs. 

When Tony realized what was happening he completely capitulated to the massage, moaning into the pillow as Bruce worked at his shoulders and neck. He hadn’t done this in a while but it wasn’t too hard and even if he wasn’t very good anymore, he knew that Tony wouldn’t give a shit in the state he was in. 

“I’m never going to leave,” he mumbled and Bruce leaned down and kissed his cheek. 

It was all he could do not to say ‘you never have to.’


	7. Chapter 7

Bruce was damn near desperate to see Tony again after Sunday night.

Bruce had set his alarm early Monday morning and made Tony a light breakfast and Tony borrowed a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt he got from a conference that read ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try doing what your SCIENCE TEACHER told you to do the first time.’ 

“There’s no way I’ll confuse it for anything of mine,” Tony teased but Bruce was already on cloud nine after waking up with him and having the privilege of eating breakfast with him while he was wearing his clothes. 

Tony took a ridiculous selfie with his intern fist bumping outside the judge’s quarters just so Bruce knew he made it there on time, dressed sharp and looking as good as he always did. But there was something different about his smile from the ones he sent two weeks ago, something more relaxed, and it made Bruce’s heart beat just a little faster as he set the picture as his wallpaper without letting himself think about _ that _ too much. 

By the time Thursday rolled around and Tony called to see if he wanted to go to dinner Bruce was just about ready to agree to anything. Four days without more than a couple selfies and some texts felt akin to torture but he had to decline – it was the science department’s monthly trivia night and he wasn’t willing to bow out of the one social function he indulged them in. 

“Well I’m sure you’re the one holding that team together, you and your hadron colliders and chemical chain reactions and shit.” It was impossible for Tony to hide the disappointment in his voice even behind the joke, but that only made Bruce ache to see him even more. 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t be impressed when we got to the pop culture round,” Bruce admitted with a laugh and they let the dead air stretch between them for a minute, not wanting to admit defeat just yet or let each other go. 

“Hey, you know – you should come to the driving range with me tomorrow night,” Tony finally said and Bruce blinked, taken aback as he stared across the empty lab, picking at the peeling lacquer of the instructor’s desk. “I have this awful golf outing with a bunch of the old guys from the association Saturday and I was going to whack around a few balls for practice beforehand. Otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it from my dad.”

“I have literally never held a golf club in my life,” Bruce admitted, feeling stupid. 

Tony made a sound that easily dismissed Bruce’s concern. “No one at the driving range cares. Half the time it’s mostly college kids who are only there trying to hit the ball into the net.”

Bruce chuckled, not even realizing there was a net in golf. “Still probably better than me.”

“You might be a natural.” 

“I doubt it.”

There was a brief silence and then Tony asked, a little more anxious than Bruce anticipated, “but will you come?”

“Of course!” he told him, maybe a little too enthusiastically, but he didn’t expect Tony thought he was saying no.

“Good!” Tony said and Bruce heard the big, open smile in his voice then. “I’ll send you the time and address?”

“Sure,” Bruce agreed easily, swallowing before he asked, “Do I have to wear anything special?” 

“For the range?” Tony asked and then remembered Bruce had really no experience. “No. Don’t worry about it. Like I said – think college guy.” 

“I was a pretty boring college guy,” Bruce admitted and Tony laughed. 

“Good – then I’ve not got much to compete with.”

As if Tony had to compete with anything at all.

But Bruce knew the same wasn’t true of him and he definitely felt silly showing up to this place on Friday in his professor slacks and a button up but his little bit of googling golf etiquette deemed that this was alright. Still – Tony was waiting outside the building for him looking phenomenal as always and he knew it was dumb, that Tony clearly didn’t care, but still. It was hard being, well, _ him _ when Tony was so... _ Tony _.

“Do you have someone drive you around everywhere?” Tony asked with a laugh as Bruce walked up and he shrugged, a little self-conscious after his moment of self-deprecation. 

“Sometimes I take the bus.”

“Really?” There was something like amusement in Tony's eyes and he leaned over and bumped shoulders with him, his mouth coming painfully shy of kissing him.

“Really.”

“So you really just have a peace pact with the earth then?” 

Bruce laughed, feeling himself ease up under Tony’s little smirk. 

“I don’t buy bottled water either and bring my own grocery bags from home,” he murmured conspiratorially.

Tony was the one laughing now and it was the laugh Bruce loved as he took him by the hand and led him into the shop. 

Tony brought his own clubs, which made sense in retrospect, but Bruce just concentrated on the bag, chuckling to himself that Tony was like a little kid with a favorite color. Red bag, red car. But he rented a set for Bruce and got them both a bucket of balls and then went out to a lane. 

It was pretty deserted on a Friday night – the air was warm but not hot, that beautiful month of spring that felt like awakening – and people must have had better places to be. He immediately saw what Tony meant about the net though. The whole field was netted in so that it was impossible to hit a ball off into the road or whatever. There were a couple guys way down the line from them doing exactly as Tony said and swinging as hard as possible and laughing. Tony just shook his head and rolled his eyes as he put on his gloves when he caught Bruce staring.

“I have literally no idea what I’m doing here,” Bruce said as he watched Tony lean down and place a ball, grinning over at him. 

He pulled a sleek club out of his bag and Bruce watched as he lined himself up, readying himself for the shot and then swinging hard and evenly so that the ball went sailing effortlessly far across the green. Not only had Bruce never held a golf club, but he’d also never even watched golf on TV. He’d never really seen a golf swing. He was pretty sure it wasn’t meant to be _ that _ fucking sexy though.

Tony’s face was pleased and easy as he watched the ball land and he turned to Bruce with an air of confidence but also amusement. 

“That’s the best shot I’ll have all night,” he laughed before walking over to Bruce and placing a ball for him. 

He selected one of the clubs for Bruce and immediately informed him it was a driver – which made sense as they were on the driving range, Bruce realized – handing it over though he took it uncertainly. 

Then Tony came up behind him and Bruce figured he should have expected it but he didn’t and his heart rate spiked as his breath caught painfully in his chest. Tony pressed his face into the back of his shoulder and giggled. 

“Golf can be fun,” he teased as Bruce released a shaky exhale, smiling back at him. “But you have to relax or you won’t be able to hit the ball right.”

Bruce laughed and leaned back into him, his head in his shoulder, right up against his, Tony’s lips mere centimeters from his cheek as he turned to look at him. 

“What?” Tony asked, mock innocence, as Bruce caught his breath.

“Turnabout is fair play?” Bruce teased.

“All is fair in love and war,” Tony quipped back before focusing back on Bruce's golf swing. 

He explained to him what he was aiming for, pulling back his arms and pushing him through a few little arcs before stepping back and letting him swing down. The ball shot off on an extreme sideways angle and they both laughed. 

“Well, you’re probably not a natural,” Tony said as Bruce made a face. 

“Ya think?” 

“But you can get better with practice. Watch me,” Tony said as he placed another ball for himself. 

“Yeah like I’m going to be able to keep my eyes off that ass,” Bruce called over to him and Tony grinned over his shoulder, taking a quick hit that wasn’t as good as his first but was clearly just a play to show off his form. 

Bruce hit a few more but he was definitely bad at it, laughing as his balls sailed weakly across the turf. Despite Tony saying his best hit was going to be his first, the ones following didn’t seem that bad to Bruce either.

“Do you have to do this golf stuff a lot?” Bruce asked, watching as Tony took another swing. 

“More than I want,” he admitted. “I’ve got a lot of shitty obligations.”

Bruce hummed as he set down another ball for himself. 

He watched Tony whack another one hard. 

“I’ve gotten out of the last few but now that the weather is warmer...” He just clicked his tongue and leaned down to pick up another ball. 

Bruce gave him a minute by hitting his ball and it actually went in a straight line that time. 

“Better!” Tony told him with a smile and Bruce smiled back and nodded. 

Tony hit a few more before he slid that driver back into his bag and paused a minute, throwing his right arm over his chest and bringing up his other arm at a perpendicular, pulling on it to stretch his shoulder. 

“Do you know how hard it is to play eighteen holes with a bum knee and a jacked up arm?” he muttered and Bruce paused after his last shot, looking over. 

“I can’t imagine.”

“And have all those old guys with their cardiac bypasses and shit ragging you for it?” 

Tony sighed as he released his arm and kicked at the concrete beneath his feet in frustration. Bruce leaned over into his space a little. 

“Hey,” he said softly and Tony looked up at him. “Fuck those guys. Show up late and play half. You’ve got better shit to do.” 

“Like you?” Tony asked, leaning in and brushing his lips against his. It was the most chaste kiss he’d probably ever received but he was grinning like an idiot when Tony pulled away. 

“Damn straight,” he said, not even able to be embarrassed that he couldn’t make his voice come out smooth. 

Finishing the bucket of balls was rough though. Although compared to Bruce, Tony was doing extremely well, Bruce could tell he was getting overwhelmed and their joking tapered off, his concentration increasing as his form began to suffer more and more the emptier his bucket got. Finally he threw his driver into the lawn in frustration and limped a little across the length of the range. 

Bruce collected it for him and slid it into the bag, giving Tony a few minutes to calm down before he suggested getting something to eat. 

“Sorry,” he apologized as he walked back, clearly ashamed of his outburst. “I had a really shitty day and I don’t want to do this and honestly your idea of showing up late is sounding more and more appealing.”

“So let’s go get a beer,” Bruce suggested, reaching for his hand and giving it an affectionate squeeze. Tony still looked a little distressed but he squeezed back, nodding. 

They took their equipment back in but Bruce shouldered Tony’s bag wordlessly so he didn’t have to and he was a little worried Tony had that manual car – which Bruce couldn’t drive even if he had to. He couldn’t imagine it was all that easy to drive any car with a fucked up knee but especially not a manual. But he had his Cayenne and though it was still an expensive car, it had a standard black paint job and was clearly not the fun little show off car his Spyder was. 

His suspicions were right and it was an automatic, which made Bruce feel better because that he _ could _ drive, though he didn’t suggest it. It was clear Tony was sensitive and Bruce wasn’t about to try to wrest control from him. Not like that. 

And he clearly began to feel better the farther they got away from the driving range, the tension easing in the set of his shoulders as well as his mouth as he began to talk again, though the statements were short and terse. Tony admitted he was taking them somewhere close to his place and when they pulled up to the outdoor mall the restaurant was a part of Tony gratefully handed his keys over to the valet. 

It wasn’t a far walk to the restaurant and they took and elevator to the second floor, getting seated quickly on the balcony and Tony fell into the seat next to Bruce’s with no small measure of relief, stretching his leg out under the table. Bruce perused the cocktail list to give Tony a minute to settle down and when the waitress came he ordered something fruity with bourbon and Tony ordered a Crown Royal neat. 

“Well now I look gay,” Bruce deadpanned as she walked away and for a brief moment Tony was completely taken aback before he burst out laughing, making Bruce’s heart swell. Hearing Tony laugh was the best sound in the world after hearing that wounded cry of frustration as he threw the golf club. 

“I can help with that,” he said, grasping Bruce’s hand on the table and leaning in for a quick kiss. 

The restaurant served upscale soul food and Bruce thought it was an interesting choice for Tony who decided on oxtails and greens and mac n cheese. Bruce ordered an etouffee and took a sip of his drink as the waitress walked away. Tony just rolled his glass in his hand, sighing. 

“It’s my dad’s drink,” he said. “I don’t even know why I ordered it.”

Bruce licked his lips and tried to crack a smile. “My dad didn’t have _ a _ drink – he just drank everything.”

Tony quirked a brow at him as if that information surprised him despite what he’d said at his condo two weeks ago. There weren’t a whole lot of ways to get your kid punted off to foster care. Alcohol aided pretty much all of them. 

But instead of asking Tony just held up his glass, offering it in Bruce’s direction. 

“To shitty dads,” he said. 

“To shitty dads,” Bruce agreed as he tapped his own glass against it and they both had a drink. 

Tony was quiet a moment, looking out over the patio at the sun setting slowly behind the buildings in the distance, his eyes hard, his body completely still and unmoving. Bruce figured there probably wasn’t anything he could say at that point to make him feel better so he didn’t say anything at all. He knew better than anyone that sometimes just existing with someone was enough. More than enough. Sometimes there was nothing to say. 

“My dad wasn’t all bad – it was just the big things he sucked at,” Tony sighed at last, taking another sip. “I had a pretty happy childhood. I mean, he was never around, so when he was it was a treat, you know?” 

Bruce couldn’t relate at all but he didn't say it.

“But he really fucked me up after the car accident.”

Tony swallowed hard and then sighed, drawing his hand away and kind of hunching in on himself a little. 

“It was Obie’s fault. I wasn’t even twenty-one yet but I was totally fucked up. I don’t remember anything about that night, really, except the first few lines of coke... Stupid,” he chastised himself, casting his eyes to the side so he didn’t have to look at anything as he said it and Bruce felt a horrible lump in his throat forming.

“It almost killed me,” he said after a minute, the fingers of his right hand, his injured hand, trembling on the glass and he pulled it away like it burned and hid his hand under the table, bringing up his left instead. “I don’t know how long I was in surgery. He ran into a fucking brick mailbox at forty miles an hour, destroyed the entire right side of his car and my body. The only thing I remember is that the way the anesthesia reacted with the coke was bad and I woke up intubated and started trying to rip out my throat before they got me back under.” 

Tony shuddered at the memory and Bruce was once again torn on whether to reach out and touch him or not. It sounded horrific to wake up that way and suddenly it clicked for Bruce why he didn’t want to be choked and he felt guilty for every time he wished he could. He wondered how many people hadn’t listened and choked him anyway, how many times he’d had to relive that nightmare. 

“I was in physical therapy for months and my dad was there, right there. He took off work, he talked to doctors, he fucking took my dick out of my pants to help me piss when I could barely stand but was too stubborn to sit down. I thought – Christ. This must be what it means to really, truly love someone.” 

Truthfully, although Tony’s face was pained, Bruce couldn’t imagine. He was pretty sure his dad had never even given him a hug unprompted by someone else. It was starting to sound less and less like Tony’s toast was the truth and Bruce was afraid of what was going to come next. How could he _ ever _ tell Tony about his own past if he thought _ that _ was bad?

“I found out six months later when everyone finally stopped coddling me and I could kind of hobble along for a minute or two that Obie fucking walked. My dad got him off completely. His precious fucking nephew – nevermind he almost killed his own goddamn kid! All dear, priceless Obie got was a fucking moving violation.”

“_ What _?” Bruce said, the word barely a word so much as an exhale from his core of complete and utter shock. 

“He was twenty-one. He could drink. My dad made sure his tox screen was expunged and his breathalyzer results proved he was well within the legal limit – we might have had a drink or two, but everyone was really doing coke. I broke every rib on the right side of my body as well as most of the bones in my right arm, shattered my knee, cracked my hip, my lung was deflated, like every fucking internal organ was bruised. The surgeon said the only thing that saved my life was that I was too fucked up to react so I just flopped around on impact instead of bracing for it or I’d probably have snapped my own neck. I spent six months in physio to take six steps and meanwhile my dad made sure this fucker is out walking around scot fucking free with barely a scratch! After coking up and all but raping his son for years!”

Bruce really was speechless then. There was nothing to say. Nothing. Nothing he said, no apology, no pithy amount of sympathy or pity was going to fix that kind of pain. It was so deep, too deep. Nothing was ever going to touch it. 

And _ God _ – did it _ hurt _ . His whole chest ached with it. His Tony, his beautiful, smart, caring Tony, who put everything he had into his cases so no one else would have to experience the pain he did, the pain of knowing your abuser got off, of knowing that hurt was never going to be rectified – that anyone could hurt him _ like that _ was more than he could bear.

Bruce wanted to wrap him up in his arms and take him away – so fucking far away from here. Hide him away where no one and nothing could hurt him again. Where he could lie against him all day and kiss his face and hold him close and worship him as he deserved but – 

But he knew Tony wouldn’t want that. What Tony wanted was vengeance. What Tony wanted was for no one else to have been through what he’d been through. What Tony wanted was someone to take his pain away when it got to be too much and Bruce? Bruce could do that too. Bruce wanted to do that. 

So he didn’t say anything to any of it, didn’t make him clarify or make him any more self-conscious or angry than he already was. He just threw his arm over the back of his seat and touched the back of his neck softly, running his fingers up into his hair, scratching his scalp a little – letting him know he was there. He was safe. Bruce would always be somewhere he was safe. 

“I had to postpone school an entire year but I still got my degree, I still passed the bar, and I _ still _ kill it every fucking day I wake up alive just to spite those bastards. I’m in near constant fucking pain but every day I wake up and power through it so I can walk into that courtroom on this piece of shit leg Obie destroyed and make sure no asshole gets off like that under my watch.”

“Tony,” Bruce said at last, as he lapsed into an angry silence.

It took a moment but Bruce waited, repeating his name once more until Tony looked over at him, his brown eyes hard and uncompromising, guarded and pained. 

“You fucking _ amaze _ me,” Bruce breathed as he leaned in and kissed him. 

Tony tried to pull away but Bruce forced him there, forced him to take the intensity of the kiss and his feelings for him. It only took a moment before Tony was letting his guard down for him and sinking into the kiss, all the tension he was holding in his shoulders and his chest melting away. And he reached back for him, palming Bruce’s cheek and appreciating it, languishing in it, kissing him back deeply until the waitress cleared her throat as she came up behind them and they fell apart, a little embarrassed. 

"I'm not all charity and good intentions,” Tony chuckled with a dark look in his eyes as the waitress left and he picked up his fork left-handed. “I may or may not have contacted his wife and told her that when she inevitably wants to get divorced she should give me a call and I’d make sure she left Obie penniless."

“I’m sure as hell not going to judge,” Bruce told him, changing the topic back to Tony by asking, “You’re ambidextrous?” 

“I taught myself after the accident,” Tony said. “But it’s good because sometimes my right arm just... fucks up. Like there’s no power behind it.” 

Tony was quiet a moment, taking a few bites before he paused and carefully brought his right arm out from under the table, laying it out where Bruce could see it. It tremored slightly and Bruce realized then that it wasn’t because of the story earlier, like he had assumed. It was the physical strain of the driving range and whatever else he had done that day. Bruce watched discreetly while they ate as Tony showed him without saying anything, unable to close his fingers enough to even grasp his drink. 

Again Bruce kept his own mouth shut, not wanting to make Tony any more self-conscious, feeling privileged enough that Tony had allowed him to see even that much vulnerability. So he changed topics to take the focus off of him, telling him about Peter calling him out when he cancelled the advisement meeting Bruce had forgotten they set up, asking if his academic achievement was being stood up for a ‘hot date.’ Tony laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“More like a hot mess,” he grumbled but Bruce just looked over at him and laughed – a real, full bodied laugh that went all through his chest and he couldn’t help it even as Tony looked at him like he was crazy. 

“The hottest hot mess I’ve ever seen,” Bruce said with a sly smirk and Tony’s expression went from shy to pleased to embarrassed to mad in the space of about three seconds flat. 

“I can’t even pick up a fucking napkin right now!” he spat back, running his right hand across the table, flipping up the paper uselessly, an obvious challenge in the set of his jaw and Bruce just shrugged. 

“Still hot,” he chuckled, and Tony rolled his eyes. 

“I can’t smoke half a joint any more because they had to cut out half my lung,” Tony continued and Bruce looked away to his plate like the conversation bored him. 

“Don’t have to be high to know how hot you are,” he replied as he took a bite.

“I’m about two years away from having to use a cane full time,” Tony bit but not even that was going to deter Bruce. 

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re face down in bed.”

Tony immediately choked and started coughing, reaching for his glass with his left hand and trying to bury his obvious surprise in a sip of whiskey. 

Bruce knew it was hard for Tony to accept compliments but to know just how deep his insecurities ran was alarming. He seemed so – so strong, so put together, so driven. So self-confident. And that’s what Bruce loved about him. He didn’t care about any of this – no physical impediment was going to deter him from pursuing Tony. He – he _ loved _ him. But getting _ him _ to believe that?

Bruce was used to being the one no one wanted, the one that wasn’t worth it, the one that was left behind – as long as Tony let him, he would be there to prove to him over and over again that he was wanted, was not going to be left behind.

Still – Bruce gave him a break and didn't push it. Instead, he filled the silence with commentary on the conference the college wanted to send him to so Tony didn’t feel the need to talk. And Bruce didn’t care if he listened or not, he just wanted it to be easy for Tony. He wanted to _ make _ it easy for Tony. 

But when they got up Tony's knee was stiff and Bruce could tell he was struggling when he caught himself on the table, giving himself a moment to adjust to standing again. And Bruce reached out his hand for him, not really expecting him to take it but hoping it didn’t embarrass him either. 

To his surprise, however, Tony took it gratefully, smiling at him and leaning on him as they made their way down to the valet. And when they got there Bruce cautiously asked him if he wanted him to drive. It was one thing to lean on him for a few minutes, but entirely another to admit that level of vulnerability. Bruce knew that. He hoped Tony wouldn't be offended. 

But he sighed and took the keys from the valet himself. 

"I figured I'd drop you off at home so I might as well drive."

The wave of disappointment that hit Bruce then was cold and heavy. He knew Tony was probably tired and ready for a break but at the same time... Bruce thought of himself as more than that. Not as someone Tony had to entertain. As someone... As someone he could relax with. And he thought with Tony opening up the way he had, Tony felt the same way too.

He didn't want to – he hated himself so much for it, didn't want to feel like an imposition – but he found himself licking his lips and asking despite himself,

"Do I have to go home?"

Tony paused and looked at him, his eyes guarded and unsure, like it was some joke Bruce was going to throw back in his face. And Bruce's heart started to ache when he realized it wasn't that he felt the need to entertain Bruce or anything, it was that Tony still didn't think after all of that that Bruce would want to go home with someone as broken as him.

"Are you sure?" he asked carefully and Bruce tried to be casual, tried not to put him on the spot or make him feel like he had to do anything he didn't want to do.

"I mean, it's Friday night. I have nowhere to be tomorrow," Bruce said, his words picking up confidence when he saw Tony's expression change to hope. "We could just have a drink and watch a movie on that gigantic TV of yours. Would be the closest I've been to a theater in years."

Tony was grinning so wide Bruce found it nearly impossible not to kiss him but he managed and Tony handed him over the keys.

They returned with the best of intentions, truly. Tony poured him a glass of scotch and they settled in to watch one of the endless number of new releases Bruce hadn't seen over the past few years. Bruce laughed as he confirmed over and over that he hadn't seen this or that. But once they made a selection Bruce noticed the way Tony was rubbing at his shoulder, so he offered to help. He'd taken those few massage classes after all and Tony knew that and eagerly accepted.

But really, it was asking too much of him to massage Tony's shoulder without kissing it. Without pressing his lips to the back of his neck, beneath his ear. The way he eased back into it and relaxed helped his shoulder anyway – so who could blame him? And if he climbed into Tony’s lap after a while and kissed him senseless – well. Tony had encouraged him by moaning as he rubbed his shoulder. He was powerless to stop himself. 

“Bruce?” Tony asked, breathing heavily with his left hand buried in his hair, his big eyes reflecting the TV in the background, dark and glittering. 

“Yeah?” Bruce was breathing just as hard, careful not to put his full weight on Tony’s hips but wanting to grind into him more than anything. 

“Would you...” he asked, laughing a little, a faint blush gracing his cheeks in the low light as something exploded in the movie behind them, “take me to bed?”

Bruce laughed and kissed him again and helped him down the hall into his room, stripping him out of his clothes slowly and kissing at each part of exposed flesh, laying him down on that ridiculous bed and pulling off his own shirt, letting it fall to the floor and grinning over at him. But Tony’s face was strained with worry and as Bruce dropped his pants he started in.

“I – I don’t know how this is going to –” 

“Shh,” Bruce told him as Tony swallowed nervously, swiping the bottle of lube just sitting out on his bedside table and climbed over him. “I got you, okay?” 

And he did. In a scene or out of it, he had him. As long as Tony needed him, wanted him – he’d have him. He'd catch him. He'd make it easy.

Bruce kissed him and he rolled onto his side to meet him, careful not to pin his right arm beneath him. He pulled Tony’s hips in towards him, finally indulging in grinding against him, and Tony gasped against his lips, his weak arm wrapped around his back, his fingers trembling with the strain of it and so Bruce moved in closer. 

It felt so good to finally have him like this, open like this, where he could admit his feelings at point blank range. And each movement was a confession, each kiss an acknowledgement, each roll of his hips an offering, each stroke of his fingers along his warm skin an admission of I love you, I love you, I love you. 

And he coated his hand in lube and slid it between their bodies, listening to Tony moan into his open mouth as he rolled it across his dick, along his balls, stroking him slowly but it wasn’t torturous it was just... he wanted to enjoy it. He wanted to enjoy every moment he had Tony pressed up against him. And he wanted Tony to enjoy it too. 

He got more lube and ran their dicks together and Tony whined and jerked his hips and Bruce sighed back as they kissed, shivering all down his spine and he knew, knew as soon as Tony came it would be game over. He was lost, he was so gone for him, he wanted – he wanted... 

“_Fuck_,” Tony murmured, every muscle in his legs straining against Bruce’s own as he jerked them off together. 

Tony’s body was sweaty, his lips tasted like saline, and Bruce knew they didn’t have long now but he didn’t care. It wasn’t meant to be like that. It was just meant, just meant to be... something. Something like I love you. 

“How do you make this feel so fucking _ good_?” Tony asked, his breath flighty, and Bruce beamed over at him as he kissed him again because he knew the answer, even if Tony didn’t yet. 

Tony was fucking him like he loved him too. 

And Tony came first, whimpering against his lips as his cum coated Bruce’s hand, and the face he made, the way his body absolutely capitulated to the relief of it – Bruce was gone. So gone. No one he had done, nothing he had done, nowhere he had been and nothing he could imagine was as singularly sexy and beautiful as watching Tony lose it to a little mundane frotting. 

“Fuck, _ Tony_,” Bruce groaned as he came moments later, wishing he could bury himself completely in him, feel him in every cell, every nerve ending, every pore. But this would have to do. Kissing him softly with an open mouth and gentle lips as they both came down from that blissed out high. 

After a moment Tony rolled onto his back and Bruce did the same – though Tony’s hand sought out his own and he grabbed it, holding it tight.

“It’s been a long time since I did, well, _ that _ with someone,” Tony admitted quietly and Bruce just gave his hand a little squeeze. 

“Me too,” he admitted, though he had a feeling that it had probably been a _ lot _ longer than six or seven months for Tony. 

And he found Tony rolling back over to tuck himself in against Bruce’s side and he welcomed him back, pillowing his arm under his head as Tony snuggled up to him. He would get up and clean them off in a minute, tuck Tony up under the sheets and run a hand through his hair until he fell asleep. But right now? Right now he was going to make sure Tony knew there was nothing more he wanted to do than snuggle with the man he loved.


	8. Chapter 8

Waking up in that giant bed was just as alarming as it had been the first time, Bruce forgetting where he was and Tony so far away from him it took a minute to reorient himself. But then he saw him, sleeping peacefully, all spread out across the bed, and the way they fucked so gently the night before came back to him in an instant, as well as the cuddling and talking softly about nothing after Bruce cleaned them up, holding hands and laughing until they were both too sleepy to keep it up.

And now here he was, in his bed again, and he slid closer towards him, reaching out to tenderly brush the hair from his forehead. Tony was so handsome, so beautiful. Bruce’s whole chest felt sore just looking at him, like if Tony poked it just right it would bruise. He loved it, loved every painful second of it, loved the anticipation, the way it made him feel like everything was electrified and he was touching a live wire, riding out the current. 

So much of his childhood he spent trying to deaden himself to his caring nature, burnt out from how his parents took and took and took from him until he had nothing left. But then he met Betty and... She gave it all back to him in spades. She appreciated every ounce of his affection, never asking for too much, and he didn’t know it could feel like that. Instead of feeling burnt out he felt invigorated. Loving her? It made him feel new.

When she left, he spent a lot of time trying to find that high again, ended up getting involved in the scene and learned some shit about himself that was hard to face, hard to look at too closely – that maybe his parents had abused him, both of them, in different ways. His dad with his alcoholism and his suicidal rants and his unchecked mental illness; his mom because she was just never there, working two or three jobs to try to keep Bruce in the house and sleeping a few hours in her car some nights, not even coming home. And it made him callous and jaded and hard in his romantic life, finding comfort in taking a partner for the night where he could express himself without worrying that someone else might take advantage of him again and leave him as tired and burnt out as he was by the time he left for college.

Yet then he found Nat and she was the same. She had been taken advantage of too, her caring nature abused by people who only wanted to take and take and take, and Bruce thought – maybe they weren’t a likely pair but at least she understood. Nat could stand beside him and make him feel validated and he could care for her and she would care for him in return. She wouldn’t hurt his heart.

Then he fucked that up too. He thought she did but in the end Nat didn’t understand. Just like everyone else, Nat ended up wanting more from him than he had to give. She wanted marriage, she wanted kids. How could he possibly have  _ kids _ ?

Looking at Tony he knew... it was just a matter of time. Tony didn’t seem like he wanted anything at all – could barely accept a compliment let alone something as deep as the promise of a lifetime of care. But Bruce knew. Bruce knew that eventually there would be something he would ask for that Bruce couldn’t give and it would crush him, just like it crushed him every damn time. Because his heart was too stupid and too fragile and he fell in love too fast. 

And that was why despite being the best thing he’d experienced in years, it came with a sense of impending dread that was almost more than Bruce could take. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to know what it would be that pushed him over the edge and ruined this gentleness. He just wanted to pretend like Tony understood, like Tony would choose him over and over again despite all of his own limitations.

Tony’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks and Bruce’s heart leapt as Tony opened those big, sleepy eyes, a soft smile unfurling on his lips. 

“Bruce,” he breathed out happily and Bruce’s stomach twisted itself all in knots to be the first word on his lips. 

“Hey handsome,” Bruce replied, blushing extravagantly as he reached out and touched his face again, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. 

“Oh my god,” Tony muttered with a beautiful smile as he blushed back, burying his head in the pillow at the pure and unfiltered compliment. 

Bruce laughed at him, light and floaty, as he moved across the space between them to wrap him gleefully in his arms, burying his face in the crook between his neck and his shoulder and breathing in the very essence of him. 

They had woken up together before – to the sound of an alarm and an early morning – but this was different. This was so gentle and easy and Bruce? His heart was so full he wanted to sink deep into it, appreciate it for exactly what it was before it was ruined by the hard light of reality which shattered everything. 

“You’re going to have to let me up,” Tony teased as he turned over beneath him, kissing him gently as he ran his hand through his hair. “I have to take a piss and a vicodin.”

Bruce laughed then and kissed his neck before he rolled off of him. 

“First thing in the morning?” he asked as Tony grunted and walked into the bathroom, the stiffness from last night seeming to have dissipated dramatically. 

“It’s probably ninety percent mental,” Tony admitted as he came back and sat back down on the bed. “I don’t take them every day anymore, just, you know, before having to do something really strenuous like play eighteen fucking holes.” 

Bruce hummed his understanding as he moved over to him, sitting up next to him and kissing his temple, not feeling like it was his place to say anything about Tony’s drug use when by his own admission he was in constant pain. 

“Nine,” he said instead as he ran his lips over Tony’s ear and felt him shudder. “I’ll make sure you’re late.”

“I really shouldn’t be, that’s the kind of shit these guys hate,” Tony admitted, biting his lip as Bruce got out of bed and fixed him with an impertinent little glare. 

“Are you a selfish, entitled fucking millennial or not? You better be right there when I get back,” Bruce threatened though Tony was grinning at him and his face eased into its own grin.

“You gonna punish me?” Tony teased and Bruce laughed as he walked away to the bathroom, shaking his head a little. 

“Hey – I um...” Tony’s voice called, faltering, and Bruce paused to hear him better. “I left that spare toothbrush there for you. From – you know. Last time.”

Bruce didn’t look back, didn’t trust himself or his face, barely trusted his own damn legs to get him the rest of the way to the bathroom with that quiet admission.

And true to his word Bruce saw it sitting there as he washed his hands and he picked it up, feeling stupid for how overly fond he felt for that dumb piece of plastic as he brushed his teeth. He knew he had a tendency towards being wildly sentimental but that was the kind of shit that had him weak for no logical reason.

Despite protesting it, Tony was right where he left him when he came back, and Bruce slid his hips over Tony's as he pressed him back into that plush headboard and kissed him deeply, the minty taste of toothpaste and the warmth of his mouth enough to send a shiver up his spine. It was the most 'morning after' experience possible and he relished it, taking his time really enjoying kissing him like they hadn't had a chance to any morning before. 

And best of all, Tony was kissing him back just as deeply, both of his hands on his back, running them up his body and holding him tenderly, all of his reservations falling away as he held him in his arms.

"Bruce," Tony sighed as Bruce moved his mouth to the sensitive place beneath his ear. 

" _ Bruce _ ," he sighed again as he moved down his neck quickly, careful not to touch it but placing one pointed kiss in the center of his collarbones.

"God," he sighed again as Bruce speckled his chest and abs with kisses, his hands firm on his sides, feeling the way his chest expanded with each deep breath he took, his hands releasing Bruce's back to tangle in his hair.

" _ Fuck _ ," he sighed again as Bruce took his dick in his mouth and sucked around it, teasing the foreskin with his tongue and feeling Tony stretch underneath him. 

Blowjobs were not what Bruce considered his strong suit and he didn't know that he'd be able to get Tony to come like this but Tony didn't seem to mind at all. He pulled at his hair and rocked his hips into his mouth, sighing out little curses as he sucked at him.

"Feels good," Tony purred, stroking his hair back as Bruce slid his hand around his dick, jerking him off into his mouth as he ran his tongue around Tony's head. "Fuck, you know – you... you feel so  _ goddamn good _ ."

Tony's voice cracked over the last word and turned into a groan, his hips tilting up, thighs straining as he came and Bruce swallowed even though it wasn’t his preference just so he could smile up at Tony afterwards and see him panting gently through his open lips, his eyes soft, filling Bruce with that feeling of electric discharge that made all his nerves buzz and his lips curl even wider. 

He laughed then, a short giddy little laugh, and he buried his face in the dip of Tony’s hip, biting at it and sucking hard. 

“Ow!” Tony jolted, laughing, trying to pull away but Bruce just bit down harder until he was sure he’d left a mark.

He pulled his mouth away with a pop and looked at the faint impression of teeth, the busted blood vessels there, and he leaned down and kissed it tenderly before he looked back up at him. 

“Mine,” Bruce said definitively as he met Tony’s eyes again and the look Tony gave him was smoldering with barely restrained intensity. 

Tony grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back up onto his knees as he slammed his mouth into his, kissing him so unexpectedly and so hard Bruce could barely fight back to maintain sitting. He moved closer and closer as he kissed him so that finally Bruce was forced backwards onto the bed and they both laughed at the awkward transition but Tony refused to remove his mouth from Bruce’s. And Bruce didn't care. There was nothing he wanted more than Tony on top of him at that moment, nothing he wanted more than that very reaction from Tony – that painful desire to be  _ his _ , to want to be with him, to be that  _ close _ to him.

But before long Tony's hot mouth found his way to his dick. He didn't expect or need reciprocation, last night had been more than enough to sate him, but when Tony sucked him in even he couldn't help but gasp breathlessly. 

" _ Fuck _ !" Bruce cried, taking a page from Tony's book as he swallowed more of him than should have ever been possible, careful to put this hands in the sheets and not on the back of Tony's head, not wanting to pin him down and make him feel choked now that he knew. 

And Tony immediately ratcheted up the intensity, sucking him in deep and humming low in his throat, a sensation he would never get used to and rarely experienced before Tony but that made his whole body tremble. He watched Tony as much as he could handle just to burn the image of Tony between his legs into his memory forever. Tony.  _ His _ Tony. He'd marked him and Tony accepted it and he was his. His.  _ His _ .

Bruce sobbed out Tony's name in relief as he came, this gasping cry from deep in his chest, and he shuddered, his fingers reaching desperately for Tony, needing to hold him, hold him in his arms. And Tony understood, flopping down next to him and curling up against him, letting Bruce wrap his arms around him and hold him just as close as he wanted to. Bruce kissed the top of his head and squeezed his shoulders tight over and over again until his heart rate went back to something like normal.

“You’re  _ a lot _ better at that than me,” Bruce said at last and Tony chuckled, tilting his head back and kissing his jaw from underneath. He tightened his arm around Tony’s shoulders and kissed the top of his head again. 

“Look it’s literally the least I could do,” Tony teased, running his hand up Bruce’s torso slowly. “The last time I left your place my abs were sore for two days.” 

Bruce looked down at him and laughed, blushing a little as he buried his nose back in his hair. 

“Worth it,” he murmured as Tony’s hand moved back down to his hip.

“Says you!” Tony replied, hoisting himself up to look Bruce in the eyes with a goofy smile.

“Yeah says me,” Bruce answered with a smirk and Tony leaned down and gave him a little kiss on the lips. “Should have made it so you couldn’t walk eighteen rounds.”

Tony collapsed on his chest in a fit of giggles and it went straight to Bruce’s heart as he ran his fingers through Tony’s hair and laughed back. 

“We could just lay here for a while and kill some time at brunch, you don’t have to literally fuck me until I can’t move,” Tony joked and Bruce slid his hands up his ribs, teasing him just a little and he squirmed to avoid being tickled. 

“But I  _ like _ fucking you until you can’t move,” Bruce replied, grasping Tony’s face and pushing it back so he could study his eyes. 

“I like it too,” he admitted, biting his lower lip on a smile, his eyes looking away shyly then looking back before Bruce kissed him again. 

“Besides, I have a feeling it’s hard to keep you still any other way,” Bruce jabbed as he pulled away and Tony punched him in the shoulder lightly. 

“That helps,” Tony admitted, laying back with him and trailing a finger through the hair on his chest and down to his navel. “As do ropes. But right now?”

His finger stopped and he wrapped his hand around Bruce’s hip, gripping him tightly and Bruce just held him back, trying to hold himself together as he held Tony, his heart beating in his chest so hard he was sure Tony heard it giving him away. But Tony didn’t say anything else, he just lay there, running his fingers against his hip, and it was enough. It was more than enough.

After a while though Tony got up to take a shower and Bruce rummaged through his kitchen naked to see if they really had to go out for brunch or if he could whip something up. But sadly it did appear Tony had literally nothing with which to make anything besides maybe an appetizer plate of salami and cheese and he wondered exactly how Tony ate – fluttering from restaurant to restaurant, client meeting to bar association buffet. Maybe that was how he stayed so thin. He didn’t like it.

But he shoved that aside and stepped into the bathroom as Tony was getting out of the shower, leaning back against the counter and watching him dry off. 

“I don’t think anything in your kitchen has ever seen the ground,” Bruce teased and Tony paused as he toweled at his hair. 

“Why would I keep stuff in my kitchen that’s only going to go bad when I can order anything I want?” Tony joked back but Bruce could tell it wasn’t really a joke. “Besides, you’ll like the place I’m going to take you for brunch. Very trendy.” 

Bruce looked at him skeptically. “I’m not sure what about me screams ‘trendy.’”

Tony laughed. “You’re a vegetarian, right?” 

“Oh yeah, if trying to reduce my carbon footprint was ‘trendy’ I might not have to actually try,” Bruce shot back but he gave Tony’s little smirk a kiss as he stepped into the shower. 

The hot water felt good and he realized belatedly that he had nothing to wear but what he was wearing the night before. Though he knew Tony probably had any number of things that were trendier than his work slacks. Probably literally anything in Tony’s closet was trendier than his work slacks besides the clothes Tony borrowed from him last week. He supposed he could get his t-shirt back... 

When he stepped out Tony was doing his hair and Bruce dried off and leaned forward, kissing his shoulder casually and watching the smile that spread across Tony’s face in the mirror. 

“You think I can get my shirt back?” he asked and Tony flushed lightly, looking down to the bottle of hair wax on the counter. 

“No,” he said apologetically. “I sent it out to be cleaned the other day.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Bruce supplied quickly. “I can wear what I had on yesterday.” 

“Or you can borrow something of mine? What size is your waist? Thirty-four?” 

“Uh, yeah, actually,” Bruce replied, impressed that he guessed that. 

“See? Same,” he grinned back over his shoulder. “Go pick something out.” 

“I –”

“Really, I don’t care, I’m wearing golf stuff, just – whatever you want.”

Bruce felt entirely uncomfortable with that but Tony really didn’t seem to mind so he walked back into the bedroom and grabbed his boxers off the floor, slipping them on as he moved to Tony’s ridiculously oversized closet. 

Unlike Tony’s fridge, everything in the closet was neat and orderly and arranged in an obvious fashion, with suits in their own area and slacks carefully hung and a tie rack as loaded as anything he’d ever seen at a store and just... so many shoes. It took him a minute to locate anything he would ever wear and he flipped through the limited number of t-shirts until he pulled a gray one out of the back that read ‘lawyers do it in their briefs’ in black capitals and he laughed to himself, thinking that if Tony took one of his science shirts, then turnabout really  _ was _ fair play.

It was soft and a little worn and it smelled like Tony as he drew it over his head and he smiled to himself as he opened some drawers in an attempt to find jeans. He recognized the ones he’d eventually pulled out likely cost as much as half his wardrobe put together but they  _ all _ looked expensive. So he put those ones on, alarmed by how tight they were despite supposedly being his size, and Tony walked in right as he was pulling on them, trying to adjust the crotch. 

“Why are these so  _ tight _ ?” he sputtered out stupidly in surprise as Tony burst out laughing, throwing his head back, taking a minute before he could calm down well enough to speak. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, my dear,” Tony said, wiping at his eyes and trying to repress his residual giggles, “those are custom tailored and you are much more well-endowed than me.”

Bruce’s blush just intensified as Tony stepped off to find his golfing clothes. 

When Tony stepped out he looked like something out of a Nike advertisement and Bruce suddenly felt they might have made an even stranger pair than he and Nat did. But then Tony smiled at him, a little soft and a little shy, and he wrapped his arms around his neck before he leaned in and kissed him. 

“You’re not a lawyer,” Tony teased as he lay his head on his arm, looking askance at him with an easy smile. “Nor do you wear briefs.” 

“Yeah, now I won’t confuse it with anything of mine,” Bruce repeated back to him fondly and his eyes crinkled a little, his fingers tousling his damp hair. 

“You think you're so fucking cute,” Tony said as he leaned back in to kiss him again and Bruce kissed him back, gently, just a sweet, affirmation that felt so... so right and easy that it left him feeling raw and overexposed.

They took the Cayenne which still had Tony’s golf clubs stashed in the back and Bruce was a little thankful that Tony seemed to be piecing himself back together as they drove. He didn’t touch him or hold his hand, giving Bruce some much needed relief from the intensity of his emotions. But he was still so distracted watching Tony, smiling over at him, laughing at his dumb jokes, that he didn’t even question it when they headed out of the city, towards the suburbs.

In retrospect, he should have been suspicious. He should have asked Tony more details about where they were going, what the menu would be like, or something, because the fact of the matter was, he didn’t really know Tony  _ that _ well. And he had no idea exactly how inconsiderate he was capable of being when it came to protecting himself. 

Bruce’s heart leapt into his throat when they pulled up to the valet at the country club, his voice coming out a wordless nothing the first time as he tried to protest. Tony was out of the car by the time he found his voice so Bruce had no choice but to get out too.

“Is Harley still here?” he was asking, handing his keys to the valet. “Tell him I’m sorry for making him wait on me but it’ll be worth it if he gets my clubs from the trunk and meets me at The Midway within the hour.”

The kid was nodding and gave Tony a polite “yes, sir” before glancing over to Bruce and eyeing him in surprise. Bruce knew that was bad. A fucking eighteen year old kid was already aware how out of place he was and he’d just stepped out of the car.

“I can’t walk in there, Tony!” Bruce protested in a hiss. "What the hell!"

"It was a surprise," Tony muttered but that didn't help at all. 

"A surprise," he deadpanned in shock as he followed Tony to the entrance, like that somehow made it forgivable.

"Didn't want you to think too hard about it."

Bruce's fists tightened in frustration and he tried hard not to raise his voice, forcing it through grit teeth.

“Not the best surprise Tony, I know I’m not dressed right, it's going to cause a scene.” 

Tony rolled his eyes as he reached the stairs. “I  _ am _ an entitled fucking millennial, right?”

Bruce was tired of his lines being thrown back at him and he just resigned himself to following Tony into the building and standing there like the idiot he was. 

Tony walked through that vast, wooden club house like he owned the place himself, this confident swing in his step that was insanely attractive and also kinda made Bruce want to strangle him. The younger staff that hovered around either made surprised faces as he followed along behind, hunching his shoulders and blushing faintly, or outright covered their faces as they tried not to laugh. That only embarrassed Bruce even further. Showing up here, looking just fucked and wearing a shirt that basically proclaimed as much, in Tony’s tight pants? It was beyond his worst nightmare. The only thing he could hope was that the restaurant would be dead at ten thirty on a Saturday. 

He got some keys from an attendant and grabbed them a golf cart and then, at least, Bruce was away from being watched and he looked at Tony, and despite how embarrassed and pissed he was, he almost felt sorry for him. His face was strained as he drove and it was clear he didn’t want to be there any more than Bruce did. Still – he shouldn’t have drug Bruce into his shit without asking. Especially when he didn’t even want to be involved in his own shit. 

“Trendy, huh?” Bruce snipped and Tony laughed but it was terse and mean. 

“They’ve got vegan shit on the menu.” 

“And you let me wear this shirt?” 

“Rhodey got it for me when I passed the bar,” Tony replied. “I love that shirt.” 

Bruce crossed his arms and glared at him, deliberately not looking at the pretty golf course around him – the beautiful landscaping and trees and manicured lawns.

“Look,” Tony said, “these guys bring their little fuck toys around all the time. No one will care.”

“So  _ that’s _ what I am to you?” Bruce shot back, truly hurt by that assessment as he parked the golf cart outside a restaurant. “You could probably find a better looking piece of ass.”

“Come on – that’s not what I said,” Tony replied but that  _ was _ what he’d said. “I just –” 

Bruce watched as the words died in Tony’s throat when he looked over at him, Bruce's eyes hard and angry, feeling used and stupid that here he was, thinking about how much he loved Tony when Tony clearly didn’t actually feel the same.

But then Tony swallowed and he sighed, looking away and thumbing the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. It was shitty not to tell you.”

Bruce gave him a look that clearly read ‘you fucking think?’ when he glanced up to gauge Bruce's reaction to his apology and Tony immediately looked back down again.

“I didn’t think you’d understand.”

Inside his head Bruce was cursing himself for the way he softened immediately because fuck – it was wrong. Tony was wrong and he should have told him. But he also knew it was the truth, knew that Tony had a whole lot of fucked up shit in his head – maybe even more than he did – and at least he was telling the truth. 

“What wouldn’t I understand?” 

Tony took a deep breath, wringing his hands on the steering wheel then gripping it at the top, leaning forward and resting his chin on top of them. Bruce could have filled it in for him, he knew what Tony thought. That he didn’t get how stressful this was, how much he didn’t want to be there, how it physically hurt, reminded him of his dad – but he wanted to hear him say it. Wanted to make him face it.

“It’s hard, sometimes,” Tony said, his voice soft and distant. “Being alone all the time.” 

Bruce licked his lips, his chest feeling tight – not expecting that. And he reached out and touched his cheek, running his fingers against it gently and feeling Tony sigh a moment before looking over at him. 

“It’s going to suck,” he admitted and Bruce shrugged. 

“That’s okay,” Bruce smirked. “I know you’re good for it.” 

Tony shook his head at his poor fellatio joke and chuckled. “They’re all going to walk through there – Richards and Pym and Stone, those guys I’m supposed to be out there with right now.” 

Bruce shrugged. Yeah, it would be awkward as hell and he would hate every minute of it – but at least he had a warning. At least he and Tony would be in it together. 

“Fuck ‘em,” Bruce repeated, leaning into give him a quick kiss, but when he pulled away he kept his mouth close, looking at his lips a second, then back up to his eyes. “But you can’t do this shit to me again, okay?” 

Tony swallowed again and tried to look away but Bruce gripped him by the jaw, gentle but firm enough to keep him there and he knew it was hard for Tony to look at him, but he tried. 

“I told you – I got you. I told you – you’re mine.” Bruce could see Tony’s lips tremble then as his eyes grew desperate and struggled to maintain contact. “Let me.  _ Let _ me.”

Bruce dropped his jaw, letting Tony drop his eyes again and collect himself a moment as he got out of the golf cart, resisting the urge to adjust those ridiculously tight pants. 

Actually, The Midway – an aptly named restaurant and bar situated near holes nine and ten – was trendier than Bruce was expecting. It was a lot of wood and glass and chandeliers and they were set conspicuously close to the bar. All of the wait staff seemed to know and like Tony though, flashing him big smiles when he showed up, and then giggling over at the bar after taking note of his unusual – as Tony described it – ‘fuck toy.’

The girl who came to take their order was cute and she blushed lightly but she clearly had a rapport with Tony and asked if he’d have his usual gin and tonic, to which he agreed. She suggested a whole litany of cocktails to Bruce before he got a word in edgewise and told her dryly that despite the shirt, he was not in fact a lawyer, and he didn’t need to be drinking before noon, so he’d just have water. 

He heard her try to repress a laugh as she walked away to get their drinks and he sighed, picking up the menu. 

“They all seem to like you, though,” Bruce observed after a moment, looking across the dining room at the predominantly older couples at the tables and the men at the bar and clearly not referring to any of them. 

Tony shrugged. “I tip well and I keep my hands to myself. Sometimes I ask them a genuine question about how school’s going or whatever. Embarrassingly easy to be seen as a decent guy around here.”

Bruce thought back to Tony saying that his popularity within the munch was a money thing too and he wondered just how many people Tony thought liked him solely because of his money and not his charisma or his kindness. He knew his father was a lawyer too, that he grew up with a wealthy, upper middle class lifestyle. Bruce wondered if this wasn’t something deeply rooted in how he watched his father act. Afterall, he clearly used his money for bribery and his position for extortion. Though Tony hadn’t said that explicitly, how else does one get a tox screen expunged? 

“Hmm, maybe,” Bruce said, leaning back in the chair. “Maybe they also just... like you.”

Tony huffed and was clearly thankful when the server came back with their drinks. But it wasn’t long after they ordered that Tony’s golf buddies walked in laughing. And although Bruce hadn’t been looking at the door, he could tell by the way Tony’s leg, which had been casually resting against his, totally tensed up, and the way he gripped his drink tightly like a shield. 

But when Bruce turned towards them his eyes caught Justin Hammer’s and a wicked sense of pleasure bubbled up within him as Justin’s eyes grew panicked. There was nothing anyone could say to Tony that Bruce couldn’t reply to with equally embarrassing commentary about Justin. 

“Well there he is, the man of the hour.” There was a sarcastic lilt to it that immediately set Bruce on edge and he squared his jaw as the four of them approached, studying the tall man with dark, pepper gray hair that had to be maintained that color because of how it faded to salt at his neck. “Or rather – the man that thinks he owns every hour.” 

Tony rolled his eyes and offered a lascivious grin. “I’m sorry I had better things  _ to do _ then fuck around with you boys.” 

The older guys laughed but Justin rolled his eyes at the lack of euphemism. Bruce fixed him with a pointed look though and Justin held it only a moment before he looked away. 

“The real reason we haven’t seen you in so long,” a charismatic looking man with stark white hair and a warm voice but a clear amount of arrogance replied. “Your father would be so proud.” 

Tony grunted dismissively at that, though if Bruce had to guess, the comment did bother him more than he let on – and the man who said it knew that. 

“Something had to give dear old dad his heart problems – liquor and red meat never seemed to cut it,” Tony shot back cooly and again they seemed genuinely amused by his commentary. 

Bruce frowned. It bothered him – they invited him out there after all, they must  _ like _ him? They obviously had as much if not more money than he did, so Tony couldn’t shrug it off as a money thing. And Bruce doubted it was some favor to Tony’s father that had him on the guest list. 

But, on the other hand, they weren’t exactly nice either. None of their commentary so far had been without a barb and he knew they gave Tony shit about his physical limitations. Was this what some people did for fun? Hang out with other guys just to intentionally put them down?

“He’ll keep you straight,” the third man, who looked somewhere between their age and the other two lawyers and sported a full head of fading blonde hair, said as he looked pointedly at Bruce’s water and Justin’s eyes went wide at the direct reference to Bruce. “Or not – as the case may be.” 

“Not,” Justin said with a laugh that went right off the rails as he realized he said it out loud. 

“Justin knows  _ all _ about that,” Bruce said cryptically and they all kind of looked between Justin and Bruce curiously. 

“You know each other?” the blonde asked and then the tall man with the weird dye job added, “Despite what your shirt claims, I don’t think you’re a lawyer.” 

“Nor do I wear briefs,” Bruce snarked, using Tony’s line earlier, which had Tony pressing his fist into his mouth to bite down a laugh. “But yes, we share some... mutual interests.” 

Bruce smirked as he watched Justin swallow. Frankly, Bruce didn’t give two shits what got you off, but he was pretty sure Justin didn’t want his lawyer buddies to know all about his latex fetish. 

"Interesting," the shorter, older man said, betraying the fact that he wasn't really that interested at all. 

Thankfully they were saved by the waitress coming back with their orders, looking momentarily confused and asking if they'd like to join the table. But there taller man just shook his head. 

"No, no – we'll leave you to it," he said, giving Tony a cool look. "But don't leave us waiting too long."

Tony assured them he wouldn't as they headed to the bar and watched apprehensively as they greeted the bartender who had already poured them their drinks of choice while they were talking. 

"Oh my God, Hammer's face...!" Tony's eyes were bright with amusement as he picked up his sandwich. "Maybe that will dissuade him from inviting himself to our shit in the future."

"He wasn't invited?" Bruce asked as Tony took a big bite, smiling around it as he shook his head and swallowed.

"He never is but somehow he always shows up. Maybe he was, because they thought I wouldn't show again, but..."

Bruce forked up some shakshuka and thought about that for a moment. 

"They seemed to like you," Bruce murmured and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, as much as they  _ like _ anyone," he muttered. "Any one of them would sell me out in half a second as soon as they got a scrap of dirt on me." 

"Then this seems counterintuitive," Bruce admitted and Tony chuckled. 

"You went to high school right?" Tony asked with a sad smirk. "Sometimes it's better to volunteer shit about yourself so they can't use it against you." 

Bruce frowned. He supposed that was true. Academics were bad – the competition was fierce, especially when it came to publishing. But competition was one thing – usually despite that a true innovation or success could be at least grudgingly celebrated by everyone. Personal attacks of this nature – the kind that could destroy a reputation or career – they happened, of course, but not  _ that _ frequently.

And Bruce thought about that as they ate, realizing slowly that even more than being ragged on, it was the constant need to be on defense that wore Tony down. Tony could take a joke, he had thick skin. Even something outright mean didn’t seem like it would really hurt him for long. But the need to constantly be ‘on,’ to constantly present a certain image and a flawless retort had to be exhausting. As he looked over at Tony he wondered if Tony was even aware that he was doing it or if it was so second nature that he didn’t realize that was what was wearing him down.

He wondered if that’s why Tony couldn’t help but hide from Bruce’s brutal honesty. He wondered if anyone had ever been that honest with Tony with no ulterior motive. 

“Hey,” he said gently, putting his hand on Tony’s knee under the table, rubbing it with his thumb a little. “You know I like you, right? Like – for  _ you _ ?” 

Tony blushed and looked away, clearly speechless and unsure what to say about that, and eventually sputtering out something about how he obviously  _ did _ go to high school and yeah, Bruce realized that was a pretty juvenile thing to say but he really wanted to impress that upon him, really wanted Tony to understand – he liked him. He didn’t need to hide or put on an act or anything like that. Not with him. Never with him. 

Fortunately for Tony he was rescued by a young guy with dark floppy hair coming up and asking him how he was doing today. 

“Hey Harley!” Tony greeted with a real smile. “Sit down for a minute – we’re just finishing up. I’m sorry for being late.”

But Harley just shrugged, not terribly concerned about it. “Glad I turned down everyone else.” He looked between them a moment with an uncertain smile that was cute in the way a high school kid was always a little cute and naive. “Is this your boyfriend?”

They were both caught off guard by the extremely direct question, having never actually talked about it before. And Bruce kind of licked his lips and looked over at Tony, stuttering out stupid nonsense filler words and Tony kind of laughed as he looked back at him and then at his plate. 

“You know I don’t really do all that relationship stuff,” Tony said but he seemed embarrassed about saying it and Bruce fought not to laugh at him. 

“You do give the worst relationship advice,” Harley admitted and then Bruce really did laugh and Tony looked over at him, a little wounded. 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce apologized when he regained his breath but the hurt look had morphed into one of chagrin. 

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Tony conceded and Bruce was proud of him for admitting that vulnerability. “But if you had to pick between me and Hammer, I hope the choice is clear.”

Harley rolled his eyes. “Well,  _ yeah _ .”

They finished up, talking to Harley another minute as Tony requested the check. He asked if he’d be able to find his way back to the front and Bruce assured him he’d figure it out as he took the keys for the golf cart. Harley went out to wait with the other guys' caddies and Tony shot them a hand gesture that he’d be right back as he walked Bruce out. 

And they stood there at the golf cart, Bruce sure Tony felt at least half as stupid as he did – not acting any better than teenagers themselves. But finally Tony swallowed his uncertainty and looked up at him, squinting his eyes a little in the sunlight. 

“Thanks,” he said at last. “For, you know – for this. For everything.” 

Bruce just smiled at him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it a moment before sucking up his embarrassment and leaning in to give him a real simple, chaste kiss. It was silly, ridiculous – but Bruce wished he had leaned in and kissed him more deeply. Especially in retrospect, once he’d realized it was going to be their last kiss? He wished he had really made it count.

But instead he just said goodbye, watched Tony wave a small two fingered wave as he drove the golf cart back to the station, feeling conflicted about the strength of his feelings for Tony when Tony was so oblivious to his own, blissfully ignorant of just how deeply Tony was willing to go to fuck shit up for himself.


	9. Chapter 9

It became pretty clear after about two days that Tony was ghosting him. 

They usually texted pretty frequently during the day, even if it was just a dumb gif or selfie that required no response, so when he hadn’t heard from Tony by lunch on Monday, he got the message. He sent him another message or two over the next few days, hoping maybe that it was just too much, that Tony was just tired and feeling vulnerable and that if he kept reaching out eventually Tony would come around. 

But he didn’t. And for Bruce it all went downhill from there. 

He knew it was Tony’s problem – that Tony was fucked up. It had nothing to do with him. All he did was treat Tony with kindness, all he did was love him openly, and Tony could hardly look at him when he did it. That wasn’t on _ him_. That was on Tony. And he knew that. He did. 

But it didn’t make it hurt any less. 

Bruce knew it was stupid to grieve something that didn’t even really exist – that the feelings he had were too strong, too intense, that Tony probably didn’t even know how much it hurt him to be rejected like that because despite saying it over and over again, Bruce didn’t think Tony really knew how deeply he cared. 

To him, though, it felt like Betty all over again, like Nat, and it sucked. It wasn’t like them, it wasn’t as bad, they’d only been seeing each other for a month or two – but it brought all those old feelings back up, hit him right where it hurt, and he spent the next two weeks snapping at all his students and hiding out in his office so he didn’t have to go home. 

And that’s where he was Friday night, eating a cup of noodles as he reviewed lab work, when he got a call from Rhodey. 

He didn’t even remember putting his number in his phone but the name came up and he stared at it in shock, unsure why the hell Rhodey would be calling _ him_. But although they weren’t speaking, Bruce’s first thought was that Tony was hurt, and it was enough to drive him to jerk and pick up the phone. 

“What the _ fuck_, Banner,” Rhodey started as soon as the line connected and Bruce blinked at his papers in disbelief. 

“You called _ me_?” he replied, sure Rhodey had to hear how surprised he was to be immediately accosted like that. 

“No, Bruce – I have been there for Tony since freshman year of college.” 

“_Okay_?” Bruce asked, still confused and growing more pissed off by the second. 

“I thought whatever little _ thing _ he had going with you was a good thing, right? He talked non-fucking-stop about you and it seemed like, I don’t know, maybe he’d figured some shit out. That you were good for him or something.”

Bruce made a disgruntled sound, hating what Rhodey was saying more than anything. What was he supposed to say? Yeah, I fucking tried?

“So what the fuck is he doing over at Hammer’s?” 

For a moment there was dead silence on the line. Bruce – he hated the way his heart pounded in his chest when Rhodey said it. All he could think about was Tony in those spandex panties kissing Steve, Tony face down in bed as he paddled him, Tony snuggling with him in bed after orgasm, kissing him softly back to reality. 

“Is – is he okay?” Bruce asked quietly and Rhodey sighed. 

“I don’t know – you know the shit that goes down at Hammer’s,” Rhodey said and yeah – Bruce knew. It wasn’t his favorite haunt for precisely that reason.

“Fuck,” Bruce muttered and Rhodey laughed. It wasn’t a nice laugh. 

“He’s been on a two week bender – calling me trashed to get him out of a bar at some ungodly hour. Fuck knows how he managed to pull his shit together enough to show up for jury selection on this drunk driving case of his let alone anything else.” 

“_Fuck_,” Bruce repeated, rubbing at his chest where suddenly it physically hurt. 

“Oh, he told you about that, huh? That figures. Well then I guess you can see how he might be a little bit of a glutton for punishment right now.” 

“Goddamnit, why aren’t you there? He doesn’t want to see me,” Bruce growled but he was already standing and throwing the lab reports into his bag to take home with him.

“The hell he doesn’t,” Rhodey replied. “Sure as shit rather see you than me because I will beat his ass and not in the way he likes. But I can’t blow off this work function for at least another couple hours. Military doesn’t work like that.” 

“Jesus Christ.” Bruce was frustrated as hell and he was sure Rhodey heard just how much he did _ not _ want to be doing that right now. But despite every brain cell he had firing simultaneously and screaming at him what a bad idea it was to show up there, he was already locking his office door by the time Rhodey had finished. “I’m on my way.” 

“Thank God.”

“But just so the record’s straight, he’s the one who dropped me,” Bruce felt the need to say though he was sure Rhodey didn’t really care about his side of the story.

“I’m sorry man – Tony’s my best friend so I know better than anyone he makes some bad fucking decisions.”

Bruce huffed a laugh but at least that helped him feel a little exonerated. He thought the conversation was over and he was just about to hang up when Rhodey stopped him. 

“Hey – he told you about the shit he did back in high school, right? When he got into that accident?” 

Bruce literally stopped walking in the middle of the campus greenway when he said it, his heart pounding so loud in his ears he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to hear what Rhodey said next. 

“I like to think he’s got his shit better sorted than that, but after this week... I know Hammer’s got that junk lying around, you know.” 

“Yeah,” Bruce said, but even to him it sounded thin and weak. 

“Just – you know – godspeed, brother. I’ll be along as soon as I can.”

Bruce stared at his phone as he hung up, pulling up a Lyft to Hammer’s and thankful he didn’t have to wait for it much longer than it took him to get to the student center. 

He was out of his mind with worry – every bad scenario Rhodey could have possibly imagined implanting itself firmly in his own head without much to even go on. But on top of that he knew that despite what Rhodey had said, Tony did _ not _ want to see him. No matter how it made him feel to hear Rhodey say Tony talked about him non-stop, Bruce knew that it didn’t matter, he didn’t want him there and he wasn’t going to be happy to see him. The best Bruce could possibly hope for was that his presence would be enough to shock Tony out of whatever shit he was doing. 

The driver wanted to talk but Bruce was in no mood, drumming his fingers anxiously on his knee as he stared out the window. It wasn’t a terribly long drive to Hammer’s from the school, especially at night, but even twenty minutes felt tortuously long when his mind was devising all kinds of ways Tony could be hurting himself. 

“Big party tonight?” the driver asked as he pulled down Hammer’s street and noticed the cars and Bruce looked at him, looked down at himself in his frumpy professor’s clothes, and didn’t even know what to say. The driver just murmured out a “cool, cool” in response.

It definitely looked like one of Hammer’s bullshit list nights or whatever and Bruce squared himself before heading to the door, not in the mood to take shit from a doorman.

There was a couple in what Bruce could only describe as latex masquerade clothes at the door and the lady pressed her mask to her face and leaned in with a teasing smirk as the guy with her looked Bruce up and down skeptically. “Password?” 

“Look – I just need to talk to someone.”

“We can’t just let you in without the password,” she said as the guy crossed his arms over his chest. 

Bruce looked beyond the door to the raucous party going on, everyone fully embracing the theme, and then back to the lady at the door. 

“I will stand here and cause a scene until Justin himself has to come out here and trust me – he does _ not _ want to be on my bad side.”

It was kind of a ridiculous threat because Bruce knew he didn’t look like the kind of person who could cause much of a scene and he honestly didn’t know exactly _ what _ he would do. And Bruce could tell she was about to call him on it when he just decided to muscle past the two of them and walk right in. 

He felt the man’s hand grab his arm as she protested but he jerked it away with a glare and shoved through into the foyer and off towards the kitchen. 

Bruce felt immediately overwhelmed. This party was a lot bigger than last time and the music was loud, the heavy beat and hot mingle of people touching and dancing and kissing and the dank smell of weed created a disorienting atmosphere and Bruce had to catch his breath and ground himself. People were wearing masks and it was hard to discern who was who and he felt hopeless as to ever finding Tony. 

He finally caught sight of the woman who had been pegging Tony the first time they met – easy to recognize because of her height and her long strawberry hair tied up in a high ponytail. She was chatting amicably with two guys who looked like lawyer types, her hand indiscreetly placed on one of their thighs, working it’s way slowly upwards as Bruce approached. 

She noticed him and her eyes locked on his from behind the mask she wore and he figured his face must have been pretty intense because she physically took a small step backwards. 

“Have you seen Tony Stark?” he asked as one of the guys stepped in closer towards her in a protective motion. 

She paused, her eyes giving her away by darting to the staircase before settling back in on him. “I don’t think I should really –” 

“You saw him go upstairs?” Bruce asked point blank and she sighed. 

“Yeah, with some new guy I don’t know.”

“Thanks,” he said as he turned around, feeling a little more confident as he headed towards the stairs. 

There was still the inherent problem of figuring out what room he was in but thankfully tonight a lot of the rooms were open with people floating in and out of them. And he had a pretty good feeling that considering how they met, if Tony was in a shitty enough mood that was _ exactly _ the kind of thing he would be looking for.

Bruce knew that when he found Tony whatever he was doing was going to hurt. He had accepted that as soon as he had agreed to find him. It wasn’t like they were exclusive – Bruce knew that. He just – he really, genuinely wanted to be the person Tony turned to when he was fucked up. Which was way too much to expect from someone after a couple dates but he knew where he stood and he couldn’t change how he felt about Tony, only acknowledge it. And he steeled himself against his own heart just to make sure Tony was okay.

But still, when Bruce’s eyes met Tony’s through the open doorway he felt his heart drop to his feet. 

It was nothing like what he was expecting – there were no drugs, his eyes looked lucid enough as they filled with panic when he saw him. He was bent over and strapped down to a leather sawhorse, wearing nothing but a gold masquerade mask with red feathers up one side. The idiot fucking him looked young and he slapped his ass with obvious inexperience, which sent a jolt of indignation straight through Bruce’s gut. There was a woman at his head with her fingers twisted in his hair and a man to the side of her jerking it slowly in Tony’s face – clearly switching off between who got use of his mouth. But it wasn’t... unnecessarily cruel or punishing. It wasn’t even probably very _ good_. It was just a night of mediocre party sex and that – 

Somehow, that made it worse. 

Bruce felt anger roil hot in his gut. Anger he shouldn’t even have, didn’t want to have, but it was there – that Tony would choose – choose _ that _ over _ him _. And his anger bubbled over, spilling across the floor and singeing everything in its wake until he was up in Tony’s face, gripping his throat, his fist clamped tight under his jaw, forcing him up, forcing him to look up at him through that ridiculous gilded mask and he didn’t have to say it, he didn’t have to use the words. All he had to do was give him one pointed fucking look and Tony knew. Tony knew what it meant. 

You _ were _ mine.

But he didn’t – he couldn’t. He stood there staring at Tony from the doorway and instead of confronting him, instead of yelling or causing a scene or saying anything at all, he just made the same face he always did. 

The same face he made when Betty told him she got offered a job at a teaching hospital in Cambodia. The same face he made when Nat asked him to move in with her when he knew she expected a family. The same face he made every time some social worker with sad eyes crouched down to his level, looked at him and said ‘you’re going to come with me now, buddy.’

It was the face of blank impassivity, the ultimate protection against every part that hurt. It was second nature, it was reflex. If Tony couldn’t see it then he wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t know and he would be able to move on the way he clearly wanted to. 

Bruce turned away from the doorway and walked back downstairs as if he was moving through molasses, each step was thick and heavy and painful. He pulled out his phone on auto pilot, scheduled himself another Lyft, and stepped out into the cool spring air, hardly feeling it though his skin shivered at the shift. He had known that it was inevitable, had known Tony was fucked up. There was a part of him that wanted to believe that Tony would warm up to him, that Tony had loved him even if he didn’t know it yet – but if he went and looked back at it he would see it coming, right?

He had to believe that – though he didn’t let himself think back to anything they shared together, none of their dates, none of the sex. Bruce swallowed down his anger and replaced it with cold detachment. Though he was sure some therapist would say it was fucked, to Bruce it was the best defense mechanism. It allowed him to exist normally and function in a world that hurt too bad otherwise. 

So he pulled out his phone to text Rhodey. Told him that Tony was there but he was fine, there was nothing to worry about, he was just trying to get his rocks off and that it was no big deal. Rhodey texted him back, thanking him but wanting more than that and Bruce just ignored him. He could come out and pick up his friend if he wanted. He didn’t really care what happened. Bruce was done. He was done.

The night stretched on into days and Bruce holed up in his apartment and tried to get over it by laying in bed – a plan that was always guaranteed to fail, but he couldn’t think clearly enough to do anything else. He knew it was his fault, knew he shouldn’t have fallen so hard so fast for Tony – Tony, who would openly admit to being a train wreck. But he didn’t listen to himself. He only saw what he wanted to see. He was an idiot. A big, dumb fucking idiot. 

Tony called – but it was too late. He had nothing to say to him now. Tony tried texting instead and Bruce blocked his texts. He knew it was immature but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to talk to him. He didn’t want to work it out. He wanted Tony to move on. He wanted to be left alone. 

Bruce knew that if he talked to Tony and gave him a chance to explain, then he would be left hanging on every word, he would forgive him, he’d give it another shot and he would just be hurt again. Over and over again. So it was better this way. Tony could protect himself from his emotions by looking away, running away, pretending he didn’t feel what he clearly did – and Bruce knew he could protect himself from his own emotions the exact same way. It was how he saw through Tony so clearly. It was – it was why he fell in love with him. They were the same. Tony didn’t know it because they looked so different but – they were the same. 

And so maybe that was why when his apartment call box buzzed Sunday night, for some reason Bruce didn’t expect it to be Tony. He’d expected Tony to give up more easily. After all, Bruce already had. 

“Yeah?” he answered wearily into the speaker and stared at it in mild horror when he heard Tony’s voice come through. 

“Come on man, what the fuck?” 

Bruce pulled his thumb from the button and walked away, flopping down on the couch as his cat stared at him in confusion. The cat hated the sound of the buzzer and Tony, getting no further response, saw fit to buzz it over and over and over again. It was true Bruce was pretty good at tuning shit out, but this was ridiculous. He could hear the growl in his cat’s throat, his tail twitching in frustration. Bruce sympathized. 

He got up and thumbed the button again. 

“Go the fuck away,” he answered, though Tony was talking straight over him as soon as he heard his voice. 

“You don’t get to hide out up there playing the victim card, asshole!” 

That was all it took. Bruce grabbed Tony’s jeans and the t-shirt he’d borrowed and stormed down the stairs in nothing but a t-shirt of his own and boxers, hair greasy and his five o’clock shadow growing out to about a ten, but he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. He was done. 

“Victim card?” he accused as he slammed the door open, startling Tony who was still buzzing the call box and making him jump. “I’m not playing the fucking _victim_ _card_,” he spat as he shoved Tony’s clothes at him. “I don’t fucking care.”

“Bullshit,” Tony shot back, haughty as all hell and it made Bruce furious.

“You want to ignore me for weeks and get fucked by some amateur who doesn’t give a shit about you, fine. Do it. Why the fuck should I care?” Bruce snapped.

“Why the fuck _ do _ you care? We weren’t exclusive.”

“I don’t! I just fucking said that!”

“But you were _ there_,” Tony argued. “Why the _fuck_ were you even there?” 

“Because Rhodey called me worried you were high on cocaine getting yourself fucking hurt!” 

The silence snapped in light of his comment and Tony’s eyes went wide as he blinked slowly, obviously surprised by that. And Bruce realized then that maybe Rhodey didn’t even tell him that which... he really didn't want to dig into how fucked up that was. 

“Shit,” Tony muttered.

“Yeah. Shit,” Bruce agreed, shutting the door in his face. 

“Hey no!” Tony yelled as he pounded on the door. 

Bruce stopped a few feet from the stairs, taking a deep breath and trying to decide if he was really going to go back for him or not. He didn’t want to. He _ really _ didn’t want to. But on the other hand, if after all that Tony was still pounding on the door, he needed to find a way to get rid of him for good. The longer Tony kept trying to contact him, the more it was going to hurt. Usually people left him and had the decency to stay gone. Tony couldn’t even do that. 

“Tony,” he said as he swung the door open again, quickly displacing Tony from his spot in front of it. “Go away.”

“You weren’t supposed to be there.”

“Oh my _ god_.” It was so preposterous all the fight left him in a breath. “I know that, okay. I’m not an idiot. You needed to work some shit out and you chose someone else and that’s fine. I don’t care. You do whatever you want, okay. You have my permission. Does that make you feel better?”

“No!” 

Bruce just shrugged as Tony ran his free hand through his hair, pulling it and sighing in frustration and Bruce hated how good he looked even then. But he had to stay firm on this – just like he did with Nat, just like with Betty. He wasn’t going to go through the same cyclical bullshit he did as a child all over again – where he was abandoned time after time by the person who claimed to love him the most. Not while it was within his power to stop it. Never. 

“I – I wanted –”

“I don’t care,” Bruce interrupted, barely managing to keep his voice totally flat as he said it, watching Tony’s brows furrow in confusion. “I – I’m done. It’s over. Okay? It’s over.”

“But I don’t understand!” Tony’s voice was tight with strain and he stomped his foot angrily and Bruce felt himself falling back to a place where not even that bothered him. It hurt but it would only hurt worse the next time so he tried to stay numb. “_Why_? If we weren’t exclusive and you really _ don’t _ care, then why?! If you’re mad just _ tell me _ you’re fucking mad so – so I can _ fix _ this.” 

Bruce just shook his head a little. “It’s too late. You can’t fix it.”

“_Please_,” Tony’s voice cracked. “It was – it was all about _ you_, okay? I was – I was so fucked up on _ you_. No one has ever been so good to me, not like that. It was just – it was too much. And I was going to tell you – fuck. I _ was _ going to tell you. I just needed some time. I needed – I was... fuck.” Tony was breathing hard, looking him dead in the eye, and Bruce thought Tony might actually start to cry. “Don’t do this to me. Please, Bruce – _ please_. Please understand – I just needed some time. I don’t want it to end like this.”

Even despite Tony opening with it being all about him, all Bruce heard was how many times Tony had said ‘I’ just then. And while Bruce was sure he meant it, almost none of the other words registered. It didn’t matter what he _ was _ going to do. It was too late. 

“I can be good for you,” Tony begged, a desperate note to his voice now, grasping at straws as he reaching up to press a hand against Bruce’s cheek, Tony’s palm trembling against his skin. “I’ll be so good. You can punish me however you want.”

But Bruce just stood there, hardly feeling it, wrapping himself so deep in apathy that he couldn’t even think of what to say. Like smacking Tony around a few times to show him who was boss was all it would take. The deficit between them was irreconcilable. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Bruce replied at last, gently pushing his arm away. “Everyone leaves eventually. It was only a matter of time.”

Tony stopped suddenly. His eyes were still watery but they narrowed as he stared at Bruce, really studying him for the first time. 

“Hey?” His voice was so soft and gentle for a split second Bruce had thought – maybe. Maybe Tony could care. Maybe Tony could understand.

But he knew better. His mother had taught him better than that. Things would be different this time, she’d say. But they were always the same. No matter how different it seemed at first it always turned back into yet another job to make ends meet and a bar fight or a death threat and making himself cereal from that big plastic bag for dinner again and inevitably ending with _ you’re going to come with me now, buddy. _

“Bye, Tony,” he said simply, moving to close the door but Tony grabbed his arm, stopping him, holding him there. 

“What the fuck?” His voice was sharp but it softened immediately. “What was that supposed to mean?” 

Bruce almost felt like laughing. He wanted to know this _ now_? It was a little too late. A lot too late.

“I wouldn't want you to feel sorry for me,” Bruce replied simply, waiting for Tony to release his arm. 

He wondered if Tony even remembered saying it at all that night at his office when they shared Ben & Jerry’s or if it was just another blank space in the wash of his selfishness. At the time it hadn’t bothered Bruce, he’d been thankful Tony didn’t need elaboration, but now? Now Bruce saw it for what it was – an attempt for Tony to avoid learning anything about him, to avoid getting that close to him. Now it only made him sad.

But he saw a dawning look of regret in Tony’s eyes as he let his hand fall away and Bruce wondered if it hurt for him – knowing he could have changed things if he’d listened more closely. If he’d been more mature. If he’d known himself better. If he could have just said he needed some space instead of running away. If he had seen that Bruce had tripwires too. 

“You should go now.” 

He watched Tony’s lips part like he wanted to say something else, watched how his eyes searched his face, looking for something, some shred of emotion, something to call out and cling to, something to fight for, something to prove there was still a chance. But it was over. Bruce was done. And his face was as blank as it had to be. There was nothing there.


	10. Chapter 10

It had been two weeks. Tony hadn’t tried to call him since he’d shown up at his apartment unannounced. Bruce even unblocked his texts to see if he’d text him – but he didn’t. It was what he’d wanted, because it made it easier when there was nothing to respond to, nothing to think about but memories. But it also made it clear that Tony really  _ didn’t _ want him. The hurt was still there, of course. It felt like a sledgehammer in his chest and every time he breathed everything ached. But there was nothing to do now but get over it. It was the same as it ever was. He put up his defenses and Tony turned away. Tony wasn’t going to fight for him. No one had ever stayed to fight for  _ him _ . They were always preoccupied with their own distractions.

So he went about his life as he always did, pretending his heart hadn’t been mauled to death. Finals were coming up and he threw himself into tweaking his lesson plans. He wouldn’t say he was looking forward to it exactly, but he had the monthly faculty trivia night to go to. Helen invited him out for drinks one night. He didn’t go, but Steve even shot him a message about a munch party. Maybe he wasn’t a social butterfly, but he had things to do. Things he didn’t want to do, but distractions nonetheless. 

He greeted Stephen, Jane, and Val at their usual table and Val started pouring him a beer as soon as she saw him and he accepted it gratefully while sliding into the booth next to her. Jane already had the top of their scorecard filled out, as always, and Stephen had bypassed the beer for water. They had done this for a year and a half now, so it was easy. It was comfortable. It was a nice respite for Bruce. 

“Cheers to another semester almost done,” Val offered and Bruce tapped his glass with hers and then Jane threw hers in too as Stephen smirked that effervescent little smirk of his. 

“Are you doing summer semester?” Jane asked. “Val was saying she is and so am I but how many more people do they need in the department over the summer?” 

“I...” Bruce answered lamely. He had been so distracted by Tony over the past two months he didn’t even remember the e-mail about summer requests. “I guess I’m not.” 

Val laughed and he knew why – he was closest to her of anyone and she could read him like a book, knew he'd been distracted – but he didn’t want to go there right then. 

“Has the Dean said anything about it? I don’t even know if anyone from our department is slated to graduate this summer.” 

“I don’t think so,” Stephen replied. “Well – there are a few. I am teaching a summer lecture class remotely for a student but I believe all he needs is a final bio requirement. I don’t think any of them need chemistry coursework.” 

“Sounds like you should take a vacation instead,” Jane suggested to Bruce, giving him a gratuitous wink, but he frowned back, even though the idea wasn’t inherently bad... 

“Rent a place with me somewhere,” Bruce offered the table after a beat, which was extremely unlike him and even he couldn’t believe he was saying it as the words fell out. “I don’t care where. The beach, the mountains – you know. Sometime in the two weeks between semesters.” 

Jane laughed. “I meant with the guy you almost ditched us for last time.” 

Bruce was stricken by the casual mention of Tony and he buried his face in his glass, shaking his head. 

“We can get a place in the mountains,” Val offered, catching the shift in his body language. “But you’re going to have to hike with me.”

Bruce looked over at her then, maybe a little too optimistic. “Really?” 

“Sure – but I’m a pretty aggressive hiker,” she said, which he knew but wasn’t particularly intimidated by at this desperate point. “Oh. And my dogs come with. And they get their own bed.” 

Bruce chuckled as the trivia host began his spiel of the rules and the categories and their usual pizza order came. The first category of the night was geography and Bruce groaned as he plated himself a slice of mushroom, onion, and spinach pizza. It wasn’t as bad as pop culture but it wasn’t his favorite by a long shot. 

‘The Faculty’ – as they very uncreatively named themselves – took trivia fairly seriously and often won, so there was no idle chit-chat while answering what the largest city to connect two continents was and how many countries began with the letter J. But after Jane turned in their card at the end of the round they were free for a ten minute break as their answers were checked and tallied. 

“So did something happen to this guy then?” Jane asked and Bruce sighed as he ripped apart his pizza crust, trying not to become despondent. 

“You could say that.” 

“That’s a bummer,” Val said, frowning. “He was the first person you really took interest in after Nat.”

“I know,” Bruce replied lamely, wishing they would switch topics. 

“Before you arrived Jane was telling us all how she and Thor are back together,” Stephen said with a wheedling smirk as Jane huffed and rolled her eyes and Bruce shot him a grateful look. 

The saga of Jane and Thor was long and spanned years and Bruce honestly didn’t understand it. Usually it was a topic he hated because despite having met Thor and finding him quite charismatic, it seemed to Bruce like Jane could do a hell of a lot better. They would break up so that he could go travel across the country for six months with his ‘freedom,’ texting her little updates about whatever ridiculous shit he was doing which she would share longingly with all of them, and then he’d eventually come back, sweep Jane off her feet, and they’d be together again until he inevitably did something else stupid.

Bruce didn’t understand it. How she wasn’t devastated every time he left her was beyond him. 

“He’s back from where now?” Bruce asked, but instead of his usual teasing tone his voice came out flat and irritated, not able to fake it in light of the number Tony had done on him. 

“He was working as a ski instructor in Denver,” she explained. “They had a particularly long season this year.”

“Why do you do that?” Bruce finally asked, exasperated, and both Stephen and Val looked at him with faint but tale-tell signs of horror. 

“Do what?” she asked back, her voice a little hard as she looked at him from guarded eyes. 

“Keep letting him come back?” Bruce asked in disbelief. “He can’t possibly respect you enough to deserve you if he keeps walking out like that.”

“Well that’s an extremely narrow minded opinion,” Jane replied, not even seeming mad as much as irritated that that was his response. 

“Is it though?” he replied as Val chugged beer next to him, her eyes wide. 

“He keeps coming back, doesn’t he?” Jane replied decisively. 

Bruce opened his mouth to argue, to say that meant nothing except that she was just convenient – but the words wouldn’t come and he just snapped his jaw shut instead. Was it convenient? To come back over and over again for the same person? Wouldn’t it have been more convenient just to... leave? To leave and never come back? Like – like Betty did? Like Nat? Was that Thor’s way of fighting for her?

No, it couldn’t be... To put her through that pain over and over again was selfish. It was selfish. Because if it wasn’t selfish then what he went through as a child wasn’t abuse and he just couldn’t allow himself to believe that was true. He couldn’t. 

This thoughts were interrupted as the host had tallied all the scores, announcing that ‘It’s Just Trivial’ was in the lead with a perfect score followed by ‘The Faculty’ – who had only missed one question, which Bruce found pretty remarkable considering how they’d struggled through that round. 

Jane went up to get their card and after a few moments when the teams had settled back down, much to their relief the host announced a science round.

Although science was their combined strength, it also caused more high level theoretical arguments than any other round. And it wasn’t that the questions were hard per se, it was that none of them could help but extrapolate on every question until they were arguing about something else entirely. However, within the first three months of getting together for trivia they realized they had to make and stick to a rule about what happens in a round stays in the round and they weren’t allowed to discuss it beyond that. Bruce was fairly sure Jane and Stephen still had a latent feud over the effects of macro and micro evolution that was just waiting to be reignited by a Charles Darwin question. 

But they made it through mostly without incident and Bruce poured himself another beer, hoping the topic of conversation would have shifted but after a moment Jane said – 

“I know you all like to give me shit about it but – I love him. And I know he makes stupid decisions, I mean...  _ he _ knows he makes stupid decisions. He’s just a... free spirit.” 

Val made a face and laughed and Jane brandished a pizza crust against her angrily. 

“He’s a free  _ something _ ,” Val said with a suggestive look and the table laughed. 

But Jane pushed back her hair and sighed afterward, dropping the crust on her plate and looking down at it, clearly feeling vulnerable. 

“I know I have shed some tears over him before but – I don’t know. I realized it wasn’t worth it.”

“ _ What _ ?” Bruce asked, genuinely perplexed, that conclusion making no sense to him. If he wasn’t worth it, then why were they still together? Wouldn’t it make more sense just to... cut him off?

“Not that  _ he’s _ not worth it,” she clarified, blushing faintly. “That getting distraught over it wasn’t worth it. He makes stupid decisions but he never does anything to hurt me – he doesn’t cheat or anything and he... he tries. Don’t laugh, Val!” she accused as Val tried not to laugh. 

“The first few times I think he was genuinely surprised I was so angry! It took me a while to realize it myself but it wasn’t really the fact that he left – between lesson plans and publishing I’ve got plenty to keep me occupied. I never wanted a family or anything and I don’t mind being alone. It was really that I was worried. I’d go weeks without hearing from him, thinking he was shacked up with someone else or – or dead! I mean who the hell goes to the geographic North Pole by themselves just to ‘check out what's hiding up there?’ Christ.”

Stephen shrugged like it was something he would consider and Jane rolled her eyes but Bruce just sat there across from her in shock as she broke it down. He didn’t know what to say. It felt damning but he couldn’t place why. It was like an image had been burned into the edge of his retina and he was trying to look straight at it but his eyes couldn’t focus on what they couldn’t see and it was just hovering there out of reach, driving him mad. 

“But now he really makes an effort, sending me cute little videos about his day every day, showing me what he’s doing, helping me feel involved in his life and well – I know that sounds stupid,” she said, blushing for real this time and casting her eyes downward. 

“The point is, I guess I just realized that he makes me happy. And I spend more time happy with him than without him. So it’s easier to forgive him when he fucks up and go back to being happy than it is to be miserable all the time. So I don’t know. Maybe I am dumb.”

“I don’t think that’s dumb,” Val said sympathetically before they were called to retrieve their card, having overtaken It’s Just Trivial for first place after getting every question right that round. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t have  _ kids _ with him or anything,” she joked to cut the sentimental shit they didn’t usually do as she stood to retrieve their card from the host. 

Although Bruce hated the pop culture round he was thankful for the distraction, sitting back and watching his equally nerdy teammates fumble for answers. Who the hell knew who Jay Pritchett was or what Disney movie Angela Lansbury played in? Usually he was good for a music question here or there, but there was only one in the entire round and it was about Taylor Swift so he was playing with his hands tied behind his back to begin with – not even taking into consideration that Jane’s disturbing insight into her relationship with Thor had touched a chord in him that he still couldn’t figure out. And when the round ended he just sat there, feeling defeated in a completely different way than his teammates did. 

“That was rough,” Jane sighed as she sat down again after dropping off their card.

“Yeah – I think Bruce feels personally victimized,” Val laughed, nudging him with her elbow and he was so deep in the wash of his thoughts and confusion that he barely responded. 

“Bruce?” Stephen asked and he was vaguely aware that his friends were sharing a concerned look across the table over him and he tried to perk up, sitting up straighter, but he couldn’t make his face look right for the part and he knew it.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, trying to get their eyes off of him. “I think I really do need a vacation.”

“Look I’m going to be sending you Airbnb links from bed tonight,” Val said and he gave her a soft smile. She really was a good friend. 

“Because we all know a soft science like biology has nothing better to do before finals week,” Stephen remarked casually and her eyes narrowed at him. 

“Maybe you’ve just got your act together better than any of us,” Bruce offered, not having to force a laugh. 

“Yeah or maybe like Jane with Thor, at this point I just accept being in a state of constantly failing,” she snarked as she threw back her glass. 

“Hey!” Jane argued as Stephen and Val laughed but Bruce stared into his glass.

Why did it make him feel so bad? Jane could do whatever she wanted and if that included continually taking back some deadbeat who –

He swallowed hard. Was he a deadbeat though? By her own admission he was trying – at least trying enough to make it worth it for her. And Jane was a grown ass adult with a job and an apartment who could take care of herself and make her own decisions, not a little kid dependent on Thor to take care of her, like he had been... 

Maybe it was different. Maybe it would be different but no one had ever come back for him so he didn’t know what he would do if... Well. That wasn’t completely true, was it? He allowed himself to admit it, then. Tony had come back for him. Or he’d tried. But Bruce shut him down so quickly that was over before it began. 

Because Tony  _ had _ come back for him, right? 

He barely noticed the conversation at the table or when Jane got up to get their card or when it was announced they fell to third place or that the next round would be literature. All he could think about was Tony on his doorstep, begging him for forgiveness, for a second chance, telling him directly that he didn’t want it to be over – and Bruce just stood there, hiding his bleeding heart like Tony couldn’t see how bad it hurt.

“Bruce? You’ve read  _ Mrs. Dalloway _ right?” Jane prompted and he jolted, looking up at her.

“I’m sorry – what was the question?” 

She frowned but it was out of concern and not irritation. 

“The novel  _ Mrs. Dalloway _ is set over the course of what?” Stephen filled in. 

“A day,” Bruce answered automatically and Jane wrote it down. 

He managed to focus on the last few questions because literature wasn’t a category he was inherently bad at but as soon as the round was called Val threw her arm over his shoulder and leaned in to meet his eyes more directly than Bruce really felt comfortable with.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I –” he stumbled, running his fingers over the knuckles of his other hand in a soothing motion that didn’t help as much as he wished it did. “I miss him, I guess.” 

Jane cocked her head as she rejoined the table but Bruce just stared down at his hands.

“So what happened?” Val asked carefully as her arm slipped off his shoulders but she also slid a little closer to him. 

Truthfully he hadn’t told them much about Tony. Really, they hadn’t been seeing each other long enough. But he had been so worked up about wanting to see him at their last trivia night that he couldn’t help but spill his excitement about the driving range date they’d planned for the next day. He knew they were all pretty surprised to find out he had been seeing someone he obviously felt strongly about and were probably equally surprised to find out it was already over.

“I don’t know,” Bruce sighed. “It’s hard to explain.” 

Only Val really knew about his... extracurricular activities. And he didn’t think just coming out with ‘well, his best friend called me asking if I could go check on him because he was afraid he was doing coke again but instead I just caught him getting fucked by three other people which in and of itself isn’t really a problem since that was, after all, how we met’ was going to go over too well.

“I guess I fell too hard, too fast and he wasn’t ready for that. I don’t blame him.” 

It was easier not to look up at them so he didn’t.

“Did you say the ‘L’ word or something?” Jane asked, a less flippant question than it sounded, though Bruce still rolled his eyes.

“ _ No _ – but I might as well have,” Bruce admitted, rubbing his temple, pausing a moment before saying, “so he ghosted me instead of talking about it.”

Both Jane and Val grimaced but Stephen seemed amused.

“And you haven’t talked to him at all?” Val asked but Bruce shook his head. 

“Uh... yeah. We’ve... talked.”

“Did he explain why he was ghosting you?” Jane pushed when it became clear Bruce wasn’t going to offer any more details. 

“Well... yeah.”

“Was it a good reason?” Val asked and he was starting to feel ganged up on by the back and forth. 

“Because I’m an idiot who wears my heart on my sleeve?” 

“So... what’s the problem?” Jane asked, truly confused. “He got cold feet for a minute so you... what? You stopped talking to him?” 

“Well...” Yeah, when she put it  _ that _ way, he felt pretty stupid.

“Not all of us are used to the level of immaturity you deal with on a daily basis,” Val defended with a smirk and Jane shot her a look. 

Thankfully the host was calling out their scores and they had floated back into second place after doing particularly well that round despite Bruce’s lack of involvement. Jane went to get his card as he announced the last round would be sports and they all groaned. Sports was somehow worse than pop culture. They were definitely not going to win today. 

Bruce was pretty confident they had two answers anyway but he still found it difficult to focus. Even though it helped a little to talk about it, it still bothered him. In fact, it bothered him more now, because now he genuinely felt stupid. What was he doing? Tony hadn’t left him. He never had. Bruce had been so focused on the fact that he eventually would that at the very first slight he shut it all down rather than face something worse down the line. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t have a good reason, though. Tony shouldn’t have ghosted him. He should have just told him he needed some time. It would have hurt a little but he would have understood. Instead he played straight into his abandonment issues and every single problem he had with his mom. So when Tony had stood there and asked him –  _ begged _ him to understand, Bruce didn’t even try. He couldn’t even try. He was so focused on avoiding more pain that he didn’t even see how hard Tony was actually trying.

Bruce was buried pretty deep in his thoughts when Jane returned and Stephen cleared his throat a few times, attempting in the least obvious way possible to get his attention, until Val finally kicked him under the table, sniggering into her beer. 

He snapped up though, his eyes moving from Val to Jane to Stephen and Stephen was wearing that annoying all-knowing smirk of his. 

“I know it can be difficult to be vulnerable,” Stephen started and Bruce wanted to argue that that wasn’t  _ his _ issue, it was Tony’s, but he knew that sometimes it was better to let Stephen finish than face his wrath by interrupting him. “But take it from someone who fucked over their entire marriage by never letting their guard down about anything to the one person who would have listened – sometimes it’s better to be vulnerable.”

Bruce stared. Stephen was... not the kind of guy who divulged much. They only found out he had been married at all months after the divorce when he mentioned alimony off-hand. To say something like that... 

“He’s the one who’s afraid to be vulnerable,” Bruce mumbled stupidly as he picked up his glass to hide his shame but Stephen laughed at him anyway, leaning over the table and piercing him with a look he couldn’t force himself to meet. 

“Umhmm – what was it you said? ‘Wearing your heart on your sleeve?’” he asked. “He’s probably just as fucked up as you, I’m not disputing that. But honestly Bruce? Calling it off completely with someone who you’re mewling about like this because he screwed up a little so you can try to save yourself an awkward conversation and some hurt feelings in the long run or whatever is pretty classic stage five fear of vulnerability.”

Jane at least had the decency to hide her mouth behind her hands but Val barely tried to stifle her laugh as Bruce sat there feeling shell-shocked. He – he’d never really thought of it that way before. Despite thinking over and over again about how similar he and Tony were, how they both had defense mechanisms, how Tony should have been more aware of his – it somehow didn’t occur to him that they were both trying to protect themselves from the same damn thing.

Tony was scared to let someone that close, scared to let himself be loved, tried to build in distance, not only refusing to acknowledge his own feelings but refusing to accept the things Bruce said as well. And Bruce? It was so easy for him to feel it, and fuck – he  _ wanted _ to feel it, he wanted to be loved so badly that he didn’t realize shutting down and locking someone out over the first slight was the exact same thing. It was the exact same fear. 

It came from a different angle but Bruce was scared. He was really fucking scared. He was scared to give Tony a chance and have him screw it up, scared that he was going to trust his heart with him and have him break it – not just once, but over and over again. And he was so scared he wouldn’t even give him the chance to try. He wasn’t hurt by what Tony’d done – he never really had been, certainly not the sex. 

But what he hadn’t realized was that Tony hadn’t really ever hurt Bruce at all. Bruce had hurt himself. He’d hurt himself because it was easier than letting Tony  _ really _ hurt him six, twelve, twenty-four months in. Easier to cut it off now than to wait and see when Tony would move across the country or find someone else, ask him for something he couldn’t give or just stop caring about him and move on. But Tony hadn’t done that, not yet. No. Bruce had done this to himself. 

It felt like the room tilted under him and he gripped the bench seat with both hands, trying to remain sitting upright, barely listening as the host began announcing the final scores. His mind was reeling. What was he supposed to  _ do _ with this information? Call Tony? After all of  _ this _ ? Tony had stood there on his doorstep, begging to be loved, to be  _ his _ , and he might as well have spit in his face. He felt like he was going to be sick. 

“Hey,” Val said, gripping his shoulder suddenly. “Are you okay? You’re white as a ghost.”

Bruce nodded weakly but he didn’t trust his voice to speak. He wasn’t sure what would come out. 

“Yeah, I too learned the hard way that going to Stephen for relationship advice could be like that,” Jane comforted and he heard Stephen laugh but it was like it was coming from across the bar and he just smiled this pathetic, wan thing that felt foreign on his face. 

“I – I’m sorry guys, I’m done. I’m going to go,” he said, pulling out his wallet and dropping down some cash. 

He just – it was too much. Normally he found the pizza place warm and comforting, thinking of his colleagues as friends – but now it felt like he’d just done ten rounds in the ring as he was buffeted by them, painfully pointing out his own stupidity on all sides and he just had to get out of there. Like a wounded animal he needed to retreat to nurse his licks in private because... 

Because he was overwhelmed by it, the – the vulnerability of it. Everywhere he looked he realized now – it was all designed to protect himself from that level of vulnerability. His little unambitious job; his cheap apartment in a boring part of town; his involvement in the scene where he could vent his feelings for a night, take care of someone, walk away, and never see them again, never needing to get too close to anyone except when his dumbass made the mistake of actually falling in love; his lack of friendships and his hesitation to do more with his colleagues than a monthly trivia night. And he’d been this way his whole life. What other things had he ruined in an effort not to let himself be vulnerable? How many other relationships had he fucked up without even realizing it? Had  _ he _ fucked it up with Betty? Had  _ he _ fucked it up with Nat? Were there others he should have let in that he didn’t even see because they were too much, because they made him feel too vulnerable?

Bruce hadn’t even noticed that Val had followed him out – never assuming anyone cared about him  _ that  _ much – until she grabbed his arm as he headed towards the bus stop. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, forcing him to turn around, and he knew he had to look a mess because he could hardly see her through the tears crowding his eyes. 

“I fucked it all up,” he said and it came out sounding like someone had kicked him in the ribs. Somehow hearing it out loud in that voice was worse than he could have ever imagined. “It’s my fault. I fucked everything up.”

Her face twisted into sympathy as she threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. 

“Everyone makes mistakes,” she said and he could feel the tears leaking from beneath his closed eyelids and onto her blouse and he hated that he was doing this to her but he couldn’t stop himself. 

“But I love him,” Bruce admitted, trying to pull himself together but fuck – even just saying it out loud only seemed to make the way he felt worse. 

She pressed her hand to the back of his head and he wanted to let go of her waist, he really did – knew that this was embarrassing and not at all work appropriate – but he couldn’t do it. He just needed to feel someone solid for a minute. 

“And if he loves you too, you guys will work it out.” 

Bruce nodded but he didn’t really know if Tony loved him at all. He had wanted to believe it there in Tony’s bed, fucking him softly and watching him be overcome with passion when Bruce worried a hickey into his hip and told him he owned him. But now? Tony hadn’t tried to contact him in two weeks. What was he supposed to do? Call him up and say gotcha! Joke’s on you, I’m the one who should be begging  _ your _ forgiveness?

“I’m going to send you those links,” Val said as they fell apart, giving him a careful look of appraisal as he scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his arm. 

“Okay.”

“Be careful getting home, okay?” she said and he nodded, releasing a shaky breath, and she patted his shoulder, taking a few steps away and watching as he made it down to the bus stop. 

Bruce pulled out his phone, the background changed to a generic piece of art so he didn’t have to look at Tony’s face every time he opened his phone but... But now he pulled up their texts, scrolling through every selfie Tony had sent, smiling in them all, some little quip for Bruce to read and laugh at. And for a minute he toyed with sending him a message but ultimately he turned off his phone screen. Tony had his defense mechanisms for a reason just like Bruce had his. And maybe it was better this way. He didn’t know what to say, how to explain himself, he just...

He just brought back up their text chains and stared at Tony’s picture again as he rode back to his stop. He just missed him.

Even his own apartment – his safe space, his home – felt empty and hard. As it was, the ghost of Tony was at his table every morning, lurking in his bed every night. But at least before it had felt warm, had felt like something good, something he had squirreled away in his heart to cherish now that it was over. But knowing that he was the reason it was over, the reason Tony would never be there again? It tainted everything. It made it hurt. 

Bruce knew that what Val had said – that they’d work it out – was a pipe dream he wouldn’t even let himself indulge in. He’d never fought for anything and how was he supposed to start now? It was over – he’d said it straight to Tony’s face. He heard the words echo painfully in his own mind, searing though it until all he could do was believe it.

It’s over. It’s  _ over _ . It’s over it’s over it’s over  _ it’s over _ ... 

All that was left was to live with the ghost of the thing he had killed. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to anyone who has been following this faithfully. I just wanted to let you know, there is an epilogue next Tuesday and then a special surprise 'bonus' chapter Friday. I couldn't help myself. It's something I never, ever do so I hope if you choose to read it, you enjoy it as you have (hopefully!!) enjoyed this fic. As always, thank you so much for reading. <3

“Okay everyone, this is our second to last lab, so please, I’m begging you,  _ read the damn thing _ before you come to class on Thursday,” Bruce said amongst the flurry of physical activity as students were leaving, sure they weren’t even listening by this point, but they hadn’t for the preceding how many weeks anyway and neither did anyone the semester before that or the one before that either.

He sighed as he sat down at his desk, casting his eyes down to his lesson notes for the next class. At least work was a welcome distraction from the weekend, most of which he’d spent debating whether Tony would want to hear from him at this point or not and ultimately deciding that Tony didn’t need Bruce’s bullshit in his life. How were they supposed to make anything work when they couldn’t both be honest at the same time?

“So did you do it?” 

Bruce paused, broken from his thoughts about Tony and chemical reaction chains, looking up at Peter from his desk – the last person left in the empty classroom. 

“I’m sorry, what are you talking about?” Bruce asked, rubbing his temple. “We didn’t have a conference or something, did we? We just did that a few weeks ago.”

“No,” Peter laughed like he was being ridiculous. “Did you forgive Tony Stark?” 

Bruce physically flinched when he put he’d said together. What in the  _ hell _ was Peter talking about? Did Stephen rat him out in another class? But how could he – none of them knew Tony’s last name. He wasn’t sure he’d even told his colleagues Tony’s  _ first _ name. 

“You need to tell me right now what you’re talking about,” Bruce said, his voice dangerously low and Peter’s face fell completely. 

“You don’t  _ know _ ?” he asked and Bruce stared at him with the most intimidating professor eyes that he could manage. 

“Know  _ what _ ?” 

“You didn’t see the interview he did Friday with Trish Talk for channel seven?” 

Bruce was already pulling out his phone. “What interview?” 

“It was one of those biopic pieces she does about a ‘homegrown hero’ or whatever. I mean – I kind of assumed but –” 

The interview started playing and Peter stopped talking, coming around the desk to look at it with him. Tony was sitting there across from Trish on one of those big lounge chairs they had that was supposed to evoke some kind of 'down to earth' feeling. And he looked good, smiling that easy smile of his, in a white blazer and... Bruce’s heart physically stopped for a moment when he realized it was  _ his _ shirt underneath. The stupid science teacher one Tony had borrowed the morning after he spent the night at his place. The blazer covered most of it so you couldn’t really read it but he didn’t have to read it. He knew immediately what it was. 

“Today our guest is Tony Stark, a local lawyer most recently known for winning a landmark case against an abusive pedophile, holding him responsible for his victim’s suicide and landing him in prison for 75 years as well as over a hundred thousand dollars in damages – is that correct?” 

Tony smiled that big, self-confident grin of his. “It is and I am incredibly pleased with the outcome of that case – but I’m here all day every day. All of my cases are important, whether they get that kind of notoriety or not.”

“You must really take that to heart as you have a strong track record of winning cases. You’ve gone up against –”

“This isn’t the important part,” Peter said as he leaned over Bruce’s shoulder and hit the slider bar at the bottom of the video.

Bruce looked up at him. “The important part?”

“You’ll see,” Peter replied as he focused on finding the right moment to start the video back again. 

“– about Tony Stark the man?” Trish was saying with a sly smile when Peter resumed the video and Bruce stared, his heart beating faster as Tony made that playful look he did so fucking well. “Is there a Mrs. Stark or is that position still open?”

Tony laughed and Bruce hated the way it went down his spine when he heard it. Fuck but he had missed listening to him laugh like that. 

“Well, I was seeing someone for a while recently, but I managed to screw it up.”

Bruce’s mouth went dry. What the  _ fuck _ was he about to say? Why was  _ Peter _ only just now telling him about this? Did  _ no one _ else see this interview?

“Screwed it up how?” Trish asked in surprise, leaning over the edge of the chair. “You seem like you’re so put together and articulate and poised – not to mention  _ handsome _ – it seems like you could have anyone you wanted.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” he said, clearly puffed up with pride at the not unwarranted compliments, but Bruce watched the way his smile dropped into one that was clearly self-deprecating. “But unfortunately the same traits that make me a fantastic lawyer make it difficult to be in a long term relationship with me. I’m demanding but rarely there because of my intense workload and variable schedule. I’m distant because being a good lawyer means leaving your emotions at the door. I have a hard time deciding what I want because I’m used to making decisions based on facts, not emotions. It’s difficult for me to give much of myself to a personal relationship and that obviously makes it hard to  _ have _ personal relationships. And it wasn’t fair to him but I –”

“ _ Him _ ?” Trish interrupted in surprise and Tony paused, closing his mouth and looking over at her. “Are you – coming out?” 

He stopped and laughed. “Oh no, honey – everyone knows that. I’ve been an ‘out’ since I had my first crush.”

“Oh!” she seemed kind of embarrassed because clearly she did _not_ know that, and though Tony hadn’t intended it to, it did make her look a little ignorant. 

“But as I was saying – this guy? He was the best thing that had happened to me since freshman year of college and trust me –  _ that _ was a while ago. But I pulled out all my classic lawyer crap and shut him out and I regret it. A lot.”

Trish was making a sympathetic face and the cameraman zoomed in on Tony’s, likely trying to get some kind of soft pity shot. But Tony didn’t do soft and he didn’t do pity. Instead Tony looked straight at the camera and Bruce’s chest was so tight he could barely breathe. It was like Tony was looking right at him. 

“So Bruce, if you’re watching this right now, I just want you to know how sorry I am for not listening earlier. And I hope one day you’ll be able to find it in your heart to forgive me for being a big, dumb idiot too.”

Bruce threw the phone down like it had burned him and slammed his chair back so fast Peter had to jump out of the way. 

“So I was  _ right _ ? It  _ is _ you?” 

“Wh – what the fuck!” Bruce stuttered out, completely overwhelmed by what had just happened and the fact that Peter was still there, grinning for all the world like he’d just won the lottery. 

“I mean, I know I’ve seen you wear that shirt before. How many guys named Bruce have that same dumb science teacher shirt? Who also just  _ happen _ to know Tony Stark?" Peter was grinning like he was in awe of himself. "I can’t believe it. There’s a whole Facebook page set up for this and I figured it out in two minutes.”

Peter was rambling behind him but Bruce was just staring at his phone as the interview ended and the replay option came up. The only thing he could think of to say was – 

“There’s a Facebook page?” 

“Uh,  _ yeah _ !” Peter laughed, but then his face fell and his eyes went wide. “I mean, I probably wouldn’t visit it if I were you, it’s a little... crude.”

“Oh my god,” Bruce muttered, burying his face in his hands, feeling like his world was completely crumbling around him and there was nothing he could hold on to, nothing he could reach out for. 

It – it didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense. Tony  _ still _ wanted him? Even after – even after he told him it was over?

“When did this air?” he asked and it was so difficult to breathe he felt like he was verging on a panic attack. 

“Uh, Friday? Not that long ago,” Peter confirmed and Bruce picked back up his phone, staring at the thumbnail of Tony there, wearing his shirt and that smile he loved. “I can’t believe I was  _ right _ .”

“Stop celebrating,” Bruce mumbled, unable to drag his eyes away from the screen, wanting to replay it but not until Peter left. “It  _ was _ pretty obvious.” 

“So? Are you going to call him?”

“I...” Bruce trailed off, then he looked over at Peter, making a disgruntled face. “This isn’t appropriate.”

“What! This is college!” Peter defended himself. “You can’t leave me hanging! This is the coolest thing that has happened since I started here.”

“You need to go to some parties or something,” Bruce grumped but then he set down his phone, rubbing his eyes. “But yeah. Obviously I’m going to call him.” 

“Yes!” Peter fist pumped and Bruce rolled his eyes. 

“But you should leave before my next class gets here. And Peter?” He turned to look at him as he was obediently headed to the door, still grinning from his success. “Don’t – don’t put shit about me on Facebook, okay?” 

Peter laughed as he left and Bruce just sighed, rolling back the interview to where Tony was staring at the camera, speaking directly to him. He wanted to close the video, or at least hide his eyes, but he couldn’t look away. 

“So Bruce, if you’re watching this right now, I just want you to know how sorry I am for not listening earlier. And I hope one day you’ll be able to find it in your heart to forgive me for being a big, dumb idiot too.”

He stopped the video and set the phone down more gently this time, staring at Tony staring back at him, and it was too much, it was entirely too much. What did he – how could he – ? He didn’t deserve this. He...

Bruce licked his lips and swallowed hard, trying to force down all the emotion welling up in his throat, feeling thick, like he was breathing through concrete and he... Fuck. Stephen was right. He was exactly the same as Tony. And though he was scared – really fucking scared – Tony thought he deserved a second chance after slamming the door in his face. Didn’t Tony deserve one too?

Bruce knew he did but that still left him wondering... now what? He wanted – he wanted to call him, to hear his voice, but at 10 o’clock Monday morning he knew Tony was probably busy. Despite ragging him at the beginning of their relationship for not calling, Tony was rarely able to actually take a call. And anyway, as he thought about it, a phone call seemed so impersonal after... that. And certainly a text was not going to cut it. If he was honest with himself, what Bruce wanted was to see him, look into his eyes, know that Tony still wanted it, wanted  _ him _ , and that they could be okay after all this. He wanted –  _ fuck _ . He wanted to put his hands on his waist and wrap him up in his arms and – and kiss him, if Tony would let him. Nothing short of seeing him in person was going to count. 

But he had three more lectures to get through. Why did Peter have to be the overachiever who took a 9:00 am lecture? Why did all of his colleagues have to be losers who got all their news online and didn’t watch Trish Talk? Why was he just finding out about this  _ now _ ?

Briefly he considered canceling his classes and giving them a reading assignment instead but ultimately he stuck it out, though he was sure his students knew he was distracted as all hell – making them repeat questions about his rambling lecture several times just to understand what they were even talking about. He just couldn’t get the way Tony looked at him through the camera out of his head. He couldn’t stop feeling the way it made him feel. And when his last lecture was finally over he shoved a bunch of paperwork into his bag and booked it to the bus as quickly as possible. 

Bruce had never been to Tony’s office before. He knew it was downtown, not far from his condo – but there had never been a reason to go, before. There was a bus stop two blocks away though and he tried to pace himself, tried to walk calmly down the sidewalk so he didn’t show up looking like the desperate, pathetic mess he really was right then. It was almost impossible to stop his hands from shaking as he walked into the skyscraper building, looking at the directory and finding Tony’s office easily when his last name came first in the line up. 

He rode up, looking at himself in the mirrored paneling and running his hands through his hair, trying feel more together than he knew he looked. His hands were still shaking and he took a few deep breaths as the elevator door opened, the vast glass door right in front of him branded with Stark, Murdock, and Nelson, Tony’s name looming large over the others. He knew it was indicative of his place in the practice – the practice being his – but it seemed somehow fitting beyond that too. Tony had a way of overshadowing everything.

There was a woman with long blonde hair behind the desk and she seemed flighty like a bird and Bruce hid his hands beneath the high desk so she couldn’t see them trembling. 

“Can I help you?” she asked kindly and he nodded, swallowing so that his voice had a better chance of coming out even. 

“Can I speak with Tony Stark?” 

She gave him a quick, polite smile that faded almost instantly. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” he admitted, casting his eyes down, and he steadied himself. He was  _ not _ going to give up now. Not this time. “But – can you tell him I’m here? I think he wants – I’m – I’m Bruce.” 

This time her smile stayed put and he had the distinct impression she was laughing at him. Everyone had probably seen this damn interview but him.

“Well,  _ Bruce _ ,” she said pointedly, “actually he has already left for the day.”

Panic gripped Bruce's gut immediately and even though he knew it was unwarranted he couldn’t make his stomach unclench. 

“Do you know where he went?” 

“Surely you know I can’t tell you that,” she replied, clearly amused and he sighed. 

“I guess I’ll try him at home then.” 

She just shrugged. Bruce waited an extra moment just in case she changed her mind but she made a motion with her fingers shooing him away and so he gave up and headed back to the elevator. 

He knew there was as good a chance that Tony had gone to the courthouse or a dinner meeting as there was that he’d gone home but Bruce didn’t let that daunt him. Not this time. He would wait at Tony’s apartment all night if he had to.

Bruce felt fucked up, like he was being pulled in both directions. Part of him was so sold on the idea that it was over that he kept asking himself what the fuck he was doing on a bus heading to Tony’s condo but then he would remind himself – Tony wanted him. Tony  _ wanted _ him. So he let that knowledge be the beacon guiding him as he sat on the bus, watching the buildings pass by as he grew steadily closer to his place. 

Happy was just settling himself into his seat for his shift when Bruce walked in. They looked at each other and Bruce tried not to sigh. He had no reason to believe Happy was going to give him a hard time other than that he seemed like a rule stickler, but he also didn’t exactly look forward to sitting in the lobby with the other guy until Tony got back if he wasn’t already home. 

“Hey – um. Happy?” he asked as he approached, trying not to let his nerves worry a hole through his stomach. “Can I – is Tony Stark here?” 

Happy looked at him with something between irritation and disbelief. 

“That’s not how this works? Mr. Stark calls  _ me _ –” he said, pointing one thick finger to himself “– then he tells  _ me _ to put  _ you _ –” he pointed to Bruce “– on the  _ list _ ,” he finished, pointing to the desk. 

“Okay but...” Bruce sighed and his hands wrung the handle of his bag. “Okay.”

With fumbling fingers he pulled out his phone and pulled up Tony’s number. It felt ridiculous after all this to call him. What was he going to say? Hey, can you call Happy and tell him to put me on the list? Christ. 

He held the phone to his ear and listened to it ring and felt like he was going to throw up. But when Tony answered? He said his name with such beautiful, unreserved hopefulness that there was a genuine moment when Bruce thought he might start to cry. 

“Hey are you – can you,” Bruce stumbled, almost laughing, feeling so stupid asking him this right now but also so giddy at hearing Tony say his name. “Will you tell Happy to put me on the list?” 

“Are you at my place right now?” Tony asked, a lilt at the end of his voice that sounded like pure joy and made Bruce’s heart race. 

“Yeah, I just –”

“Stay right there! Don’t move! I’m coming home right now!” Tony said, laughing suddenly, jarring across the phone line. “Tell me you’ll stay right there!” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Bruce said, the smile on his face unstoppable as he shifted back on his heels and stared at the ground, blushing. “Unless Happy kicks me out.”

“Tell him I love him but I’ll fire his ass if he tries,” Tony said. “Ten minutes okay? Fifteen tops – but I’ll speed.” 

“If you get pulled over –” Bruce threatened but Tony whooped as he hung up the phone. 

Bruce stared down at the phone and ran his thumb over the screen like he was physically stroking Tony’s cheek, feeling incredibly stupid in the best way. He didn’t even notice the first time Happy cleared his throat but when he cleared it again Bruce’s eyes snapped up to look at him, trying not to blush. 

“So? Should I be expecting a call or...?” he asked, making an impatient motion with his hand and Bruce shook his head. 

“He told me to wait here.” 

Happy made a face that betrayed his frustration with that answer, but he didn’t argue. Instead he just looked back down at his desk, muttering about people clogging up his lobby. 

Bruce knew from leaving with Tony when they went to the golf course that there was a second level entrance and exit for residents so they didn’t have to pass through the lobby to reach the elevator. And Bruce spent the entirety of the time he waited there wondering if Tony was going to go through the lobby or come off the elevator so he didn’t have to think about what he was going to do when he finally saw him again. Probably he’d simply stand there like a total idiot but then – he was a total idiot so maybe that was fitting. 

But when the doors to the elevator opened and Tony was standing right there, a painful five feet away, he didn’t have to wonder anymore. Because Tony stepped out wordlessly, took his face in his hands, spent one long moment staring at him in wonder and awe, and then he kissed him straight on the mouth. 

And Bruce melted completely, wrapping his arms around him and shamelessly pulling his body tight against his own. The feeling of having Tony in his arms again? It was more than he could have ever let himself hope for. And knowing – for once really, truly  _ knowing _ that Tony wanted him, that Tony wanted him to be there? It made it even  _ better _ . Better than he thought possible. Better than he could even describe. Perfect. That’s what it was, really. It was perfect. 

“Did you see my interview?” Tony breathed, pulling back just enough to search his eyes, and Bruce nodded. 

He opened his mouth to speak but Bruce didn’t get the chance to say anything at all before Tony took that as an invitation and was kissing him again. But Happy was still there, clearing his throat more loudly, and Tony stopped and they both looked over at him, his face clearly broadcasting ‘what the fuck?’ and Tony responded with his own look of chagrin. 

“Sorry,” Tony winced before disentangling himself from Bruce and pulling him into the elevator with him. 

There was a sudden awkwardness between them, though Bruce couldn’t stop smiling, and as he looked over at Tony, Tony smiled back shyly.

“They made a Facebook group, after your interview,” Bruce said as their eyes met, shining. “Trying to find me, I guess.” 

Tony laughed and Bruce couldn’t help it, he slid straight into Tony’s body and wrapped him back up in his arms as the elevator ticked slowly up the floors. 

“One of my students told me about it,” he said as he met Tony’s deep brown eyes again, hoping that he would get lost in them forever. “I – I actually don’t watch Trish Talk.”

Tony made a sound of mock offense, smiling so wide that the effect was even more hilarious than it was intended to be. “Trish Talk is a fabulous program.” 

“Well, I heard someone mentioned me on it once. Someone important. So maybe I’ll have to give it a shot.”

Tony laughed as the doors to the elevator opened and Bruce let him go, following closely behind as Tony dug his keys out of his pocket. But as soon as they were back in the safety of his house with the door locked behind them Tony was back on him, his weak arm around his neck, trembling as he kissed him. Bruce held him back, his arms low around his waist, and he knew they needed to talk but  _ oh god _ , it felt so good to be kissing him again he just didn’t care. Talking could wait. He just wanted this. He just wanted to kiss him and never let him go. 

“Thank you,” Tony said against his mouth, pressing his left hand to his cheek and stroking his thumb up under his cheekbone, pulling back just enough to look at his eyes. “Thank you for – for giving me another chance. I won’t fuck up again – I won’t. I’ll –”

“Hush,” Bruce told him softly, casting his eyes downward. “It’s my fault.” 

“Bruce, I –” Tony tried to argue but Bruce cut him off. 

“No,” he said, burying his face in Tony’s neck, bringing one of his hands up to rest on the center of his back, holding him so tightly he was sure it must be hurting him but he was aching all over and the only thing that helped was feeling Tony pressed up hard against him, knowing that he was  _ there _ . “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

“Hey, no, I –” 

“No,” Bruce said again and he could feel hot tears on the rims of his eyes and he didn’t want to cry but he knew it was only a matter of time and he gripped the back of Tony’s shirt in his fist. “I’m so stupid. I thought – I thought that if I pushed you away it would hurt less.”

This time – Tony didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to discourage him or... anything. He just ran his hand over the back of his head and held him and let him know he was there. 

“I really didn’t care that you were there or with someone else I –” Bruce breathed out a pitiful whimper into his shoulder. “What got me was that you didn’t tell me, that you stopped talking to me, and...”

“I’m so sorry,” Tony apologized as Bruce’s tears soaked the shoulder of his shirt and Bruce could feel him swallow, could hear the catch in his voice. 

“It’s my fault,” Bruce repeated mournfully. “I fall in – I fall too fast and... and then I get hurt, so I...” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Tony said, his voice quiet, and he nuzzled his nose into Bruce’s ear and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate you,” he said, twisting his fingers in his hair. “I wanted to but...” Tony kissed his cheek again and Bruce’s grip loosened on the back of his shirt slowly. “I haven’t let someone get this close to me in... a damn long time,” he chuckled a little and Bruce sniffled as he looked at him. 

Tony clearly didn’t want to look at him, wanted to look away and not leave himself wide open like that, but he met his eyes as best he could. 

“I’m scared,” Tony said, his deep brown eyes showing it clearly as they darted across Bruce’s, looking for something, some kind of confirmation. “But also I think I – I think that I love you.” 

Bruce’s stomach lurched to hear Tony say it and after the relief of crying he started to laugh, his whole body trembling as he pressed into Tony for another kiss. 

Instantly it had changed from affirmation to something driven and physical and Tony tugged Bruce’s shirt from his waistband so he could run his soft hands up his back. And Bruce pressed his tongue into Tony’s mouth, taking as much as he could get as they stumbled towards the bedroom. 

He felt high on Tony then – his taste, his scent, the way he felt underneath his hands, the way his dick pulsed against his thigh. Tony’s hands were tugging his shirt up to his arm pits as his mouth ran down his neck and Bruce’s hands kneaded Tony’s ass through his slacks as Bruce rolled his hips against his, groaning in appreciation at just how fucking good it felt.

Tony was laughing. Laughing because it felt so good and his laughter against Bruce’s skin made his whole body feel electric and then Tony dropped carefully to his knees. 

Bruce stared down in shock and despair as Tony unbuckled his belt and began to unzip his pants and Bruce stopped him with a hand on his own. 

“Tony, you don’t have to –”

“Don’t have to what?” he laughed, his eyes shining as he looked up at Bruce and slipped the button on his pants. 

“I mean I –” Bruce said, his voice edging in panic. “Usually I – I’m the one who –”

“Hey,” Tony said as he stood again and Bruce’s pants fell to the floor. He was looking at him again, straight in the eye, and he kissed him slowly, savoring it, making Bruce’s heart slam in his chest. “Let me show  you how good you make _me_ feel.”

Bruce didn’t know whether to moan or cry and the noise he did make came out all strangled, something like disbelief as Tony kissed him again, pressing him back into the bed. 

Tony stripped his clothes off quickly and grabbed the lube from the table before settling down between Bruce’s legs and smiling at him with that glorious, radiant smile of his. That smile that said he was all in. That smile that Bruce loved. 

And Bruce’s heart felt so full he thought it might burst as Tony went down on him. He didn’t ask him to, he didn’t say he wanted that, he didn’t – he didn’t even care and Tony was just  _ giving _ it to him and he felt so light headed that he couldn’t – he couldn’t even breathe – and he – 

“ _ Stop _ ,” Bruce pleaded, his voice soft and shaky and Tony did, instantly, crawling over him to look him in the eyes. “You – you can’t. I think – I’m gonna – I might –”

Tony smirked down at him and kissed him, the threat of laughter in those curled lips. “You’re not going to die.” 

“I might faint,” Bruce admitted honestly and then Tony did laugh, laying his body down against Bruce’s and kissing him. 

Tony kissed his lips, his face, his neck, his chest where he could reach it beneath his shirt collar and Bruce really  _ did _ feel faint. To have someone like this, someone like _Tony_, kissing him, wanting him, without asking, without being in control, without Bruce demanding it, without giving him anything first – it had been so long. So long since anyone just wanted _him_, no strings attached. Expected nothing. Wanted nothing but just him. 

“Help me then,” Tony said as he sat up on his knees over Bruce’s stomach and grabbed the bottle of lube. 

Bruce drew in a sharp intake of breath as Tony poured the lube in his own hand and then reached between his own thighs, up under his balls, and started to finger himself. With his other hand he grabbed Bruce’s and placed it on his own wrist, encouraging him to slide it back and Bruce did. He slid his hand back until it reached Tony’s fingers, slowly slipping in and out, and he bit down on his lower lip as he watched. 

Tony was grinning down at him, his lips only faltering when he bottomed out on his fingers and pulled back out with a little exhale. Bruce slid his other hand from his knee up to his hip but Tony stopped him, pausing as he picked up his hand, kissing the wrist before putting it back down on the bed and adding another finger to his ass.

He fucked himself slowly on his fingers and Bruce didn’t know how he was supposed to just sit there, just sit there and watch it, and  _ feel _ it, even, feel how Tony’s hand worked inside his own body and Bruce wanted more than that. So he removed his hand from Tony’s and put it on his back instead, sliding up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in Tony’s chest so he could hear his heart thumping against his rib cage and Tony grasped at the back of his head, his long fingers reaching around it, holding him there, holding him close. 

“I’m almost done,” he said, his lips against the top of Bruce’s head. “So lay back, baby. Let’s do this together.” 

Bruce felt like he was going to start crying again or that maybe his lungs would just give out and he didn’t want to lay back, he didn’t want to let Tony go at all, it was too much, too much, more than anyone had given him since Betty and – 

And Tony was gently pushing his shoulders back until he was laying back in the pillows. And Tony got a condom from the side table and slipped it on Bruce. And Tony poured some extra lube on Bruce’s dick and held it firmly in position so he could slowly, slowly lower himself down on it. 

When he finally managed to take it all in, Tony didn’t start moving right away. Instead, Bruce was surprised to find that now it looked like Tony was the one who was going to start crying. And Bruce couldn’t just lay there like that. He pushed himself up on one arm and let the other run up Tony’s spine to the base of his neck, holding it there, and Tony’s bright eyes slowly lifted up to look at him and there  _ were _ tears there. His arms were held limply at his sides and he looked exhausted when he finally said it. 

“I still want to be yours,” Tony managed at last and Bruce felt the pain of that simple desire radiate all the way down through his chest, down to his bones, and he pulled himself closer, holding Tony tightly, never, ever wanting to let him go. 

“I want to be yours, too,” Bruce confessed and he could physically feel Tony’s muscles clench as he said it and Tony wrapped both arms around his neck then, digging his fingers into his back as he started to move. 

Bruce was forced to let him go and plant his other arm to his side to pin himself in and hold himself up as Tony slowly worked his hips down into his own. Tony was still holding Bruce around the neck, his face buried in Bruce’s shoulder, and his breathing was hard as he worked his hips, grinding more than fucking him, letting his hard dick rub eagerly against Bruce’s stomach, his body trembling at the friction. 

“Tony,” he panted, wanting to pull him back, look him in the eyes, kiss him on the mouth. 

“Tony,” he repeated, but Tony just squeezed his arms around him tighter, like whatever Bruce was going to say was bad and he didn’t want to hear it, he just wanted to stay right there, like that forever.

“Can – can I kiss you?” he asked, not wanting to upset him any more than he was already but it made Tony pause anyway. 

When he looked up his eyelashes were wet but his lips were curled and Tony kissed him hard and they fell back into the pillows laughing because Bruce didn’t want to prop himself up any more. He wanted his hands all over Tony, reaffirming that he was there, that he could hold him and touch him and make love to him like this and that Tony wanted him. 

Tony wanted to be  _ his _ .

It was nearly impossible to fuck with Tony laying on top of him and Bruce’s hands holding him down against his chest so he stilled, breathing hard, and Tony removed his lips from his mouth, looking so beautiful despite the utterly vanilla sex and Bruce put his hands on Tony’s face and brushed back his hair only to have it fall right back in his eyes and he beamed up at him. It was right. It was so right. 

“Can we roll over?” Bruce asked and Tony quirked a grin. 

“I do have this gigantic bed for a reason,” he answered and Bruce grinned back. 

It was an awkward roll but mostly successful and then Bruce was staring down at him, straight into his eyes, pushing the hair from his face again, the back of his knuckles on Tony’s cheek, and he had to swallow back the lump in his throat just to speak. 

“I’ve wanted you like this since the first time we saw each other at Hammer’s.”

Tony’s jaw trembled and he fought not to look away from the blatant love Bruce knew was unmistakable in his eyes. 

“Hammer’s was...” Tony tried, swallowing himself, realizing it was only the second time they’d seen each other.

“I told you – I fall fast,” he admitted weakly, painfully embarrassed as he buried his face in Tony’s neck. 

And he wrapped one arm around his back, cradling his neck in his hand. And the other he ran up Tony’s thigh to his knee, tucking it up close to his own ribs and holding it there. Bruce fucked him slowly and shallowly as he kissed at his neck and his shoulder and his chin, listening to Tony moan and pant as he rocked his hips back against his. 

It was slow, methodical, and they were both sweating and sticking to the sheets by the time Bruce let himself let go. He lifted Tony up just a little, allowing his hips to pump hard and quick into him. And Tony grabbed his own dick, jerking it hard, and though he threw his head back a minute and Bruce got to see the exposed column of the pretty throat he loved so much, it was only a moment before Tony was looking back up at him, meeting his eyes. A very meaningful, symbolic gesture that made Bruce feel weak as his orgasm built to the tipping point. 

“ _ Please _ ,” Tony begged and he reached up to wrap his fingers around the back of Bruce’s neck. “I – I wanna  _ see _ it when you come.” 

Even if he hadn’t been so close, he was pretty sure a request like that from Tony would do him in any day of the week and he felt his own eyes drift close as he let out a soft groan that rolled through him, igniting all of his nerve endings. And Tony only had to jerk it a few more times before he was coming too, his muscles clenching down and shoving Bruce out, but he moaned his name and it all felt like electric again – new and supercharged and tingly. 

Bruce leaned in to kiss him softly, over and over again, stroking his cheek and just appreciating him. Loving him. Loving him the way he had wanted to really since the moment they’d met. 

But he still didn’t say it – not when it was so new – he just settled in next to Tony and wrapped his arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek as the air slowly grew colder against their exposed skin. 

“I’m going to get up,” Tony mumbled, “but I’ll be right back. Take off your shirt.”

Bruce laughed. It was silly he was still wearing his shirt. But then he realized he still had the condom to deal with too and he sighed as he grabbed it and waited until Tony was done in the bathroom to go wash off a minute himself. 

Tony was waiting back in bed for him under the covers and though it was extremely early, Bruce didn’t care. He just slid in with Tony and tucked himself up beside him and Tony ran his fingers through his hair, pulling on it a little. And he knew – he knew he needed to talk to Tony and he knew Tony understood now that he needed to listen but... this felt so good that he didn’t want to wreck it. But he also didn’t want to wreck it by not saying anything and not telling Tony how he felt. They couldn’t do that again. It was – it was too hard. He loved him too much.

“Ever since I was old enough to reach the counter or pull up a chair, I’ve been on my own,” Bruce started slowly, watching the way his hand rose and fell on Tony’s stomach as he breathed, stroking his thumb against the warm skin, staring at this little blip of a scar there beneath it. “My mom always worked two jobs, sometimes three. My dad was too ill to work.”

Bruce paused and he closed his eyes. He was so used to lying about it that telling the truth took concentrated effort. 

“He was mentally ill and an alcoholic. And I was left alone with him every single day. I would come home from school and he’d either be dissociating so hard he wouldn’t even see me walk past or passed out on the couch drunk or... or having an episode, crying and threatening to kill himself. I never knew what I was coming home to except I knew my mom wouldn’t be there.”

He could feel Tony’s breathing catch hard in his chest and he was sure he wanted to say something but he managed not to, managed to just keep his fingers moving through his hair minutely, his thumb rubbing the base of his skull in this singularly soothing way that made it a little easier. 

“I didn’t even realize that wasn’t normal,” he said after a minute, snuggling up against Tony a little tighter. “I would do my homework and make us dinner – some cereal or sandwiches or something I could microwave. When I was real young – like six or seven – I would wander the neighborhood looking to play with my school friends but then my mom freaked out when social services was called and I was forbidden from leaving the house.” Bruce laughed. “So I was stuck there with him. Not that it made any difference, the outcome was the same but...

“I was so relieved the first time they stuck me in foster care that I cried for three days straight because I felt so guilty about it. I knew my mom was scared that was going to happen, that it wasn’t a good thing – but I was just so happy I didn’t have to go home to him.”

“Fuck,” Tony whispered but Bruce didn’t say anything. 

Bruce knew objectively that this story was fucked up but because it was his story it never felt like it was. Plus he  _ knew _ Tony had heard worse. He wasn’t special. He didn’t even have it  _ that _ bad. He’d had food and a roof over his head and at least one parent who tried to care even if she was never around but... He also knew it made him the emotionally stunted child he still was today. 

“But somehow my mom got me back. She would work with the social workers and go to their classes and quit one of her jobs and promise to have more time for me but it was always a lie and I’d end up right back in foster care again a year or two later. I was – well. Every time I was wracked with guilt because I didn’t want to go home. And she’d ask me to forgive her and I did but...”

What was there to say? He didn’t want to go home. He’d never admitted that to anyone before and it sounded as horrible as it felt, even all these years later. But Tony just lay there with him, listening and saying nothing, judging nothing.

“Then I went to college and at least I only had myself to take care of. It was really nice, being alone. I didn’t make a lot of friends or anything because I – I wanted to only have to think about myself for once but then I met Betty and she...

“She completely changed my life.”

Tony was sliding to wrap his arms around him completely and Bruce readjusted around him, his head tucked up against Tony’s on the pillow, his body nearly laying fully on top of the other man – his arm locked hard around his waist and his leg hooked around Tony’s. 

“I didn’t want to be alone any more, not when I was with her,” Bruce admitted softly. “She made me realize I didn’t have to be. Took her a long, long time to convince me though. We had only been officially dating for six months when she got a really fantastic job offer in Cambodia.”

He could feel Tony’s arms tighten around him as he nuzzled his nose deeper into the pillow. 

“I wanted her to be happy,” he whispered, voice cracking over it just a little. “So I didn’t tell her ‘no.’ But I couldn’t move halfway across the world. I just – I couldn’t. But now, I think, she wanted me to. Not to move with her but – she wanted me to fight for her, ask her to stay, tell her we had something worth more than a fucking  _ job _ and I just...

“I didn’t think that I could be someone else’s happiness.”

It broke off in a whisper and Tony’s nose rubbed lightly against his, his hand pushing his hair back from his face. His eyes were dark in the low light but he was staring at him with such tenderness that it made Bruce’s heart flinch. 

“I think you could be mine.”

And when Tony kissed him then it felt so warm and gentle and even after everything he just said nothing had changed and he – he felt like yeah, maybe Tony could. Maybe Tony could break the cycle. Tony was trying, Bruce could see it. He was forcing himself to meet his eyes, even when it was hard. He was forcing himself to listen, even when it meant getting close. Tony came back and apologized to him – not only that, but even after Bruce turned him away Tony kept fighting. Tony went on public television to apologize again.

Maybe Tony didn’t know just how much Bruce needed that, but it was clear Tony would fight for him when he needed to. And now? Now Bruce needed to fight for  _ him _ . Tony needed that promise – just as much as he did himself. 

And so Bruce hoped that Tony would understand that when Bruce pressed the words he said next against his lips, how much it meant for him to say, what kind of promise it was – the promise that next time instead of closing the door in his face, he would turn and fight. 

Because he  _ would _ fight for Tony. The way Tony fought for him.

“I  _ want _ you to be mine.”

Tony’s lips betrayed how pleased he was to hear that as they curled against his own and he let Tony push him over onto his back, pressing him back into the pillows, climbing over his body as he kissed him until they were locked so tightly together Bruce didn’t know where he ended and Tony began and – he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know or think about anything other than the glaring truth blinding him as he merged himself into Tony, feeling him on every surface of his body, every plane, every pore. He wanted  _ this _ . For as long as he could have it. For as long as he could fight. 


	12. Epilogue

Bruce took a step back to admire his handiwork, visually inspecting the rope that hung from the anchors Tony had installed in the ceiling remarkably soon after Bruce mentioned his interest in suspensions. It wasn’t something he typically had the time to do in a scene, though he and Nat had done a few privately, but now that he had Tony as often as he wanted... 

Well. Suspensions definitely made their way into their play. 

Tony was hung several feet off the floor in a delicate arch, a pyramid-like structure of black rope supporting him and running all to one anchor point in the ceiling. Bruce had made sure his hips were supported, wrapped up in rope, as well as his waist and his chest, creating a wide base for the shibari to hold him in a reclining position. His legs were then bound at the thigh and the ankle and lifted up and spread handsomely. His arms were allowed to hang free towards the floor and his neck was supported by a Y at the base of it where his neck met his shoulders and the base of his skull, creating a solid structure so Tony could lean his head back, his eyes closed reverently as he lay there, breathing deeply. 

He was so beautiful that even a year later Bruce could hardly believe that Tony was his. But Tony’s hips were bruised with fading hickies from the other day when Bruce marked him again and again and again in bed after his leg gave out in the lobby at work and he fell – no injuries other than the massive one to his ego but that was bad enough. Tony had cried as Bruce’s teeth dug into his flesh and they never said it to each other, never made an idle threat, but Bruce still knew he was crying because he thought Bruce should leave. 

So he made another mark, and another, and another, each one a physical reminder –  _ you are mine, you are mine, you are mine _ – until Tony’s sobs had quieted and his breathing had shallowed out into lust and Bruce sucked him off. 

Because Tony  _ was _ his. And Bruce was going to take care of him. The same way Tony did for him.

While it took quite a while to get him into that position, Bruce knew that it was worth it. Tony treated each wrap of rope around his skin as a tiny form of release and in the air he didn’t have to worry about his physical ailments. He could just lay there, weightless, and let Bruce tell him how to be, how to feel, without having to think.

“It’s a good thing we went to brunch for your birthday instead of dinner because I think I might keep you wrapped up all day,” Bruce purred as he stepped forward to run a finger up the back of his thigh, watching the skin prick along it, while Tony just lay there motionless.

He was getting good at this – letting it go. It made a grin curl along Bruce’s lips. Tony really was his. And when he was suspended like this, Bruce knew it. Tony was his – body and soul. 

Bruce kissed the back of his leg and the knee that was failing him, letting one hand fall to his ass, teasing his dry fingers along the tightness there, getting a low, gratuitous moan from Tony that made his own dick respond in kind. 

“You want that?” Bruce murmured as he teased him more pointedly and though he whined a little, his eyes remained shut and his body lax against the ropes. 

“You know I do,” he breathed as Bruce stepped away to get the tools he wanted.

It was so nice to hear Tony say it so easily now. He’d never ever hushed him, never played a game where Tony had to be quiet, never let him be gagged in his presence again and whatever he wanted just fell from his lips so easily now. Of course, Bruce didn’t  _ always _ give him exactly what he wanted, he thought with a smirk as he picked up the lube and pocketed Tony’s favorite vibrator – but he liked to know, he liked to hear it. He wanted to know just what he needed to do to take care of him. He never wanted Tony to feel ashamed or embarrassed or like he couldn’t ask for what he needed. Never again.

“Are you comfortable?” Bruce asked, the question not merely surface level as he ran a finger from Tony’s collarbone down his arm. 

Gently he slipped his fingers between Tony’s and he knew to squeeze them so that Bruce knew he was okay.

The ropes in a suspension were wrapped around multiple times for stability and they rested thick against Tony’s pale skin and Bruce leaned in and kissed the gap between the wrapping around his chest, moving his mouth from his side all the way up to his nipple. He scraped his teeth against it and Tony squirmed against the sensation, that simple response still sending a shock of pleasure through Bruce's gut. Bruce put his hand on the small of Tony’s back. 

“You’re going to want to be very still,” Bruce warned and immediately Tony’s body went slack again. 

Tony took a deep breath as Bruce licked the flat of his tongue over his nipple, smiling as he watched Tony lay there, hammocked comfortably into the ropes. But when he nipped it again Tony still flinched and Bruce knew they were both going to enjoy this. 

He ran his hand down Tony’s waist to his hip and then back up his leg until he stepped around it and back between Tony’s legs. Bruce could see the way anticipation fluttered along Tony’s stomach so he waited – not speaking, not touching, not making a sound. He was sure Tony could feel him there, waiting, watching him, but his voice still came out cautious. 

“Bruce?”

“Oh – are you waiting for  _ me _ ?” 

Tony’s eyes blinked open and he lifted his head to look at him and Bruce’s smirk softened into a tender smile. 

“Relax,” he told him. “I’m serious – you’re going to want to be very still.” 

“What – are you going to punish me?” Tony teased and Bruce slid his hand up along the fleshy part of his ass, kneading it as he leaned into his thigh, biting down into the soft flesh there and Tony threw his head back and inhaled sharply. 

“Are you going to be good?” Bruce asked, his cheek still against Tony’s thigh, and he soothed the bite with a kiss. 

“Yeah,” Tony sighed and Bruce straightened himself again. 

“Good,” he said, taking a quick release cockring from his pocket and tightening it around the base of Tony’s balls and his half-hard cock. He watched Tony’s chest expand deeply and his dick already began to fill with anticipation. 

Next Bruce took out lube, slicking his fingers in it and teasing Tony’s ass with them. He had actually learned a few tricks from Tony’s Dom friend Pepper that he really liked and Bruce liked to go a while without employing them then overload Tony with them all at once. 

Bruce pressed the flat of his thumb against him, circling it slowly, watching Tony’s breathing pick up as he did so. That had been a good night. Pepper had been one of the few Doms Tony’d had a steady relationship with before him and she knew a lot about him. Bruce had enjoyed having Tony face down in bed, discussing with a painfully technical amount of detail just how to take him apart with her while Tony could only lay there and listen to them talk, whimpering with his hands tied behind his back. 

He felt Tony’s hips shift just slightly then, angling for more pressure, but Bruce grabbed his knee bound in rope and stopped. “Already?” 

Tony stopped dead still, barely breathing, and Bruce dropped his hand from his knee and began to massage him again, even more slowly than before and he heard Tony whine breathily. Finally he slid a finger in and Tony moaned with relief but to his credit, he didn’t move his hips at all. 

“You desperate little slut,” Bruce hummed as he stretched at the muscle and Tony keened a bit. “I can’t believe how badly you want it. How long has it been? Two days?” 

“Three,” Tony shot back though he was really in no position to be snotty about it since it was  _ his _ work schedule that had kept them apart this week and Bruce chuckled darkly. 

“Poor thing – I’ve made you wait  _ so long _ ,” he mused as he slid another finger in, adding some more lube to help loosen him up. “And I usually take such good care of my things.”

Bruce knew he was loose enough to take the vibrator so he just finger fucked him casually, like they had all the time in the world. He knew Tony liked it that way, didn’t like to think about what he would be coming back to when they were done. A never ending caseload and at least fifteen voice mails. He always tried to take the best care of Tony. 

“Do you want me to take care of you?” he asked, stilling his fingers and feeling Tony constrict around him, trying to get the movement back. 

“ _ Please _ ,” he asked though it came out so needy it made Bruce sweat. 

“Good,” Bruce replied, slipping his fingers out to Tony’s little huff of frustration. “You’re going to lie here, just like this, and take it. You’re going to take it until you can’t anymore and then you’re going to beg me to help you get off. And if you move anything besides that beautiful mouth, you will be punished. Understand?” 

Tony yes’ed him dutifully as Bruce pulled out the vibrator and slicked it in lube too. It was angled up to hit his prostate and now that Tony knew he could have a prostate orgasm, he loved the power it gave him to prolong that sensation. And Bruce loved watching him cum over and over again. 

That was something he’d taught Pepper in return. 

Slowly he slid the vibrator into Tony, unable to stop himself from kissing his thigh as he did it, held in position high off the ground. Tony really was remarkable. The sense of fulfillment he got being with him, like this, knowing that no matter who Tony fucked or what they did, Tony looked to him, deferred to him to make the best decision for him, to take care of him, was more than he’d ever hoped for in any relationship. 

Together they had laid some ground rules after deciding yes, they both wanted this to work long term, in an attempt to circumvent the kind of misunderstanding that had nearly torn them apart. Some of those rules were for Bruce so that he didn't shut down and stop talking about how he was feeling and what hurt and why. And some of those rules were for Tony, so that Bruce was never again blindsided like he was the night he accidentally caught Tony at Hammer's. 

Tony still went to parties, was still allowed to go elsewhere for sex if he wanted – because their relationship was and had always been about more than sex even if it had started at a munch party. He just had to tell Bruce in advance where he would be and give Bruce the option to go too – even if Bruce only sat in the corner and watched. It wasn't some possessive need to control Tony, though. It was more that, if Tony was going to let himself be that vulnerable with someone else, Bruce wanted to know where he was and he wanted the option to be there for him emotionally if he needed it. And ultimately, Tony wanted that too.

It took a little while for Tony to get used to though and it was difficult at first for Bruce too when he did attend – sitting there, watching Tony get wrecked by someone else without stepping in. At first it usually ended with Tony crying guiltily afterwards and Bruce's heart aching. But they both worked hard at being more open with one another and the more they understood each other the less Tony felt the need to go elsewhere and the less he felt guilty for it when he did. And, unexpectedly, the hotter Bruce found it when he did go out. 

They were able to go to parties together now and both screw around with other people for a night and laugh about it the next day. Bruce actually looked forward to those mornings where Tony was loose and light and happy and tucked up against him with a smile on his face. Bruce wanted to take care of him, wanted Tony to be happy – but now he understood that part of taking care of Tony meant letting someone else take care of him too sometimes. Now Bruce understood that he could be part of Tony's happiness without having to be the  _ only _ thing holding Tony together.

In return though Tony made him happier than he had been in a long, long time. 

Tony slowly took him from his comfort zone to dinners and galas and parties and introduced him to so many interesting people from lawyers to artists to intellectuals. He encouraged Bruce to lessen his class load and work on publishing – something he really  _ wanted _ to do. And Tony pushed him gently to stop shutting down his colleagues’ invitations to things and he grew closer to Val, hanging out with her during the weeknights when Tony was working, and they even went out on double dates with Jane and Thor, which was always an interesting experience they ended up quoting for weeks after. His fear of getting close to people was still there but Tony was always there to reassure him and... it just made everything a little easier.

Plus Bruce saw first hand how Tony put himself out there time and time again and sometimes it failed spectacularly but he never let that hold him back and Bruce – he admired Tony so much. He wanted to be more like that. Confident and put together and charming. He never would be but... being with Tony made him want to try. It made him want to try to be a better person. 

He loved Tony so much. Part of him was still scared it was going to crash and burn spectacularly – and he wasn’t sure he would ever really get over that fear. But with Tony there actively choosing him every day, struggling through his own insecurities with him, talking to him even when it was hard and he wanted to run away again, it was getting easier and easier to believe in him. In them. 

Bruce sighed a little, resting his head against Tony’s thigh, stroking his other one with his hand lovingly. He was feeling more sentimental than usual but Tony still managed to have that effect on him at times. Especially when he was feeling vulnerable about his knee, knowing he was soon going to have to make the decision to have a risky replacement or to let it deteriorate on its own. He wished he could take all Tony’s pain away for him, the way Tony did for him – but this was the best he could do.

“I love you,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against Tony’s thigh. “And I own you. And now you’re going to be so good for me.” 

“Ah!” Tony gasped as Bruce slid the vibrator slowly into him. 

He fit it in all the way to the base and gave Tony a moment to adjust before turning it on. Tony’s hips jerked once but then he held them still, breathing into it, and Bruce rubbed his ass soothingly. 

“Good,” he purred, stepping back to watch him suspended there. 

He was breathing hard through his mouth with his eyes closed again, head thrown back, arms limp, trying to remain relaxed. His dick was erect now, standing straight against the cockring. Tony looked beautiful and weightless, like a perverse angel caught in some netting. Or maybe more like his whole heart was suspended there for his review.

Bruce grabbed the riding crop he had set aside for this scene and walked back over to Tony, tapping his shoulder with it before running it up along his neck to his jaw, pressing in a little at the pulse point. 

“Does that feel good?” Bruce asked cooly as he watched Tony carefully, waiting for him to crack. 

“Fuck  _ yeah _ ,” Tony replied without even opening his eyes. 

“I bet it doesn’t feel as good as you look,” Bruce said, letting a little bit of heat come through in his voice, watching Tony breathe in more deeply. “As good as you look in a suit – and trust me, you do look  _ good _ in a suit – I think I like you like this even more.”

Tony licked his lips but he accepted the compliment as easily as he ever had. Bruce smirked. 

“And the best part?” he continued, pressing the crop in a little harder, seeing if he’d flinch. “Only I get to see you like this – stripped down and tied up and stuffed.” Bruce chuckled. “If only all those good ol’ boys you work with knew you were the best slut around.”

That got him though. Tony whimpered and rocked his hips the small amount he could manage with his waist and his thighs tied to get more friction and Bruce quickly buried a hand in his hair and held his head still. Tony’s eyes shot open and he looked at him, pupils blown wide with anticipation and that little hint of fear that Bruce knew he wanted. 

“I thought I told you to be still,” Bruce growled, the warm tease of his voice replaced by hard threat. 

Quickly he dropped his hand and side stepped to slap Tony’s ass hard with the riding crop, watching the flesh bounce back against the sting and listening to him cry out in surprise. Bruce could see him looking at him from the corner of his eye as he appraised his body for any more betrayals. But Tony quickly tried to recenter himself, letting his head lie slack again and closing his eyes. 

Bruce’s lips quirked as he took a moment to recenter himself too, mellowing his voice back into that even-keeled tease. 

“No – they’ll never know how good you look right now,” Bruce said as he twisted his fingers back into Tony’s hair, more gently this time. “They’ll never know how good you can be.” Bruce pressed his lips to his neck softly, once and then once more, appreciating the trust Tony showed by allowing him to do it. “They’ll never know how good you are at taking a big, thick dick.”

“ _ Christ _ ,” Tony whined, unable to stop his hips from jerking and he knew what was coming so he didn’t even open his eyes. Bruce just clicked his tongue in disappointment as he smacked him with the crop again. 

Tony whimpered and there was a bright red mark left across his ass near where the other one was already fading and Bruce turned back to face him again. 

“Tony,” he said, drawing his name out sadly. “I thought you were going to be good for me?” 

“I  _ am _ ,” Tony moaned like a wounded animal and it felt like a punch to the gut. Bruce couldn’t help but palm himself through his pants. He might have been good at getting Tony to crack but Tony knew just what he liked too. 

“Then why do you keep making me punish you?” Bruce asked, allowing himself to sound woefully disappointed, running a finger carelessly up the inside of his arm. 

“I – I’m just – ! I’m gonna – !” 

Bruce watched his fingers clench up, his arms straining, the way his hips rocked and his ass clenched, trying to push the vibrator straight up against his prostate and Bruce slapped his ass with the riding crop a couple of times until he cried out this guttural cry of deep pleasure that made Bruce’s own dick wet. 

Tony’s whole body was trembling as he unclenched, his hips now rocking to try to escape the vibrator and give his overstimulated nerves some relief. 

“I could help you,” Bruce remarked slowly, “but like I said, you have to ask nicely.” 

Bruce wasn’t completely sure Tony heard him as he reached up between his body, between the arch at his hips, reaching for his own dick to give himself some relief. Gently but firmly Bruce grasped his elbow and stopped him and Tony’s eyes opened again, taking a minute to focus on Bruce. 

“I told you, I’ll help – but you’re going to have to beg.”

Tony sucked in a deep breath but he let his arm go limp again. His whole body was relaxing again and Bruce was actually impressed. Tony had had a rough few weeks, his stamina was somewhat less than usual, but maybe he just wasn’t ready for it to end. Bruce could sympathize with that. 

With unbridled tenderness Bruce moved back up to his head, stroking back his hair and grasping it loosely in his hand, cradling his head as he stared down at him lovingly. Tony was his. All his. And it didn’t matter who else had touched him or fucked him or what they did together, they would never see him the way Bruce saw him. They would never see him like this. 

“My handsome, handsome man,” Bruce murmured sweetly, watching the way Tony leaned further back into his hand at the praise, feeling blown open and vulnerable himself, knowing he had Tony in the palm of his hand. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I love you so much.” 

Tony’s eyelashes fluttered as he met Bruce’s eyes shyly, a little smile gracing his lips, and Bruce smiled back down at him. 

“Tell me what you need,” Bruce said, adoration clear on his face and in his voice. “Tell me what I can give you. I want to give you everything.” 

Tony’s eyes fell back closed and he moaned weakly as Bruce talked. His breathing was coming quicker now and Bruce could tell his body was working towards another wash of pleasure.

“Tell me,” Bruce crooned, stroking the riding crop up his side as he stared down at his beautiful face, “what do you want?” 

“ _ You _ ,” Tony breathed out reflexively and then his brows furrowed as his abs clenched. “I want you – oh  _ fuck _ – I want you to – to...”

Tony was whimpering now, his fingers reaching up to wrap themselves around the ropes suspending his thighs in position, hips rocking again, trying to push himself over the edge. From his position at his head Bruce gave his ass a half hearted smack with the crop and Tony’s eyes shot open to meet his own. 

“Kiss me,” Tony pleaded as his hands wrung the ropes. “Please,  _ please _ , I –” 

But Bruce didn’t make him ask again as he leaned down, locking his lips with Tony’s, feeling his whole body jerk and shudder against the wave of stimulation overcoming him. It lasted longer this time and he had a hard time stilling the tremors in his body – it twitched and quivered of its own accord as Tony broke the kiss to heave in a desperate breath. 

“Bruce,” Tony said, looking up at him again, a trembling bundle of flesh in his embrace, and Bruce knew he was reaching his limit. 

“Tell me,” Bruce asked kindly, releasing his hair to stroke his fingers along Tony’s cheek and neck. 

“Help me,” Tony asked, a plaintive note in the request that made Bruce want to move heaven and earth for him. “I need you to – to – aw  _ fuck _ ...!” 

His body jerked hard in spite of the ropes binding him and he wailed out a singular note of exasperation and physical devastation and Bruce understood but still – he waited to be asked. 

“Tell me,” Bruce repeated as Tony let out a frustrated cry. 

“ _ Fuck me _ ,” Tony cried at last, the words ripping from his throat desperately. “I need you to touch me, I need you to –” His words were cut off for a moment as he gasped out against the physical onslaught of the vibrator, trying to turn away but there was nowhere to go, no escape. “Help me,  _ help _ me – I can’t  _ take anymore _ ! I need – I need – I...!” 

Bruce watched him shudder helplessly as he moved down between his legs again. Tony looked absolutely whorish with his legs spread and lashed to the ceiling and his dick hard and dark and dripping despite the cock ring and his ass stuffed and shaking and Bruce could hardly breathe with the headiness of it. His own dick hurt as each word falling from Tony’s filthy lips made him ache and his own fingers shook as he put them gingerly on Tony’s hips, holding him in place, kissing his swollen dick and lapping at the head a little, teasing him despite how worked up he was, knowing it would only make him angry. 

“ _ Goddamn it _ ,” he sobbed in a way that made Bruce’s internal organs twist around one another. “I can’t take anymore! I need – I need you! I need it to stop, please –  _ please _ make it  _ stop _ .” 

Tony was begging and Bruce knew he was watching him fall apart completely, a keening wail starting as his body was pushing to the point of orgasm again. But this time Bruce was going to let him have the relief of finality as well. 

“Bruce.  _ Bruce _ ,” Tony wailed, his name becoming a babbling bid for relief, and nothing made Bruce feel more satisfied than that. 

Bruce released the cockring and quickly grasped Tony’s dick in his hand as he cried out with relief and Bruce used his other hand to angle the vibrator up for a direct hit. Tony’s blithering hit a fever pitch as Bruce pulled him off quickly, his body overcome by the onslaught, jerking roughly and shaking in its bounds as he came hard all over his stomach, cum hitting the ropes around his waist and running back down them in a way that made Bruce almost lose it himself. 

He turned the vibrator off quickly as Tony’s body shook with aftershock, leaving it in to give him something to clench down around as he rode out the sensations engulfing his body. Bruce kissed his thigh and told him he’d be right back as he stumbled to the bathroom, dropping his pants quickly and jerking himself off against the countertop, catching his own cum in a towel and leaning heavily back into the cool marble. Fuck. 

Bruce gave himself a moment to calm down, swiping at the sweat on his brow as he took a few deep breaths. ‘ _ You _ ,’ Tony had said. ‘I want  _ you _ .’ Even after a year, he still felt a roll in his gut to hear Tony say that. He didn’t know that he would ever get over it. 

He pulled up his boxers but stripped off his shirt and picked up a washcloth to wet it under warm water before wringing it out and taking it back out to Tony. Tony’s breathing had evened out and despite being wrapped up he looked on the verge of sleep. Bruce said his name softly so he wouldn’t be surprised by his touch, then wiped him down, sliding out the vibrator now that he’d relaxed and wiping away lube. Tony barely responded, his breathing changing only slightly, and Bruce knew he liked to stay zoned out like that for as long as possible so he put up the wash cloth and went to the kitchen to get Tony a drink. 

When he returned he set the drink on the table and threw back the sheets before returning to Tony. Gently, gently Bruce slid his fingers through his hair and cradled his head against his body and Tony pressed his face into it willingly, seeking out the warmth of his bare skin.

“Hey handsome,” Bruce soothed. “I’m going to get you down from here now, okay?” 

Tony nodded his understanding so Bruce moved away, releasing his ankles first and then steadying his waist with one arm locked beneath it as he released his thighs. Then Tony was able to shift into more of a standing position, touching the floor with his feet but Bruce kept him upright with an arm across his back as he released the ropes from around his waist and his chest and beneath his arms and around his neck. 

Tony’s body was heavy and limp but it wasn’t far to the bed and Bruce maneuvered him down into it. Carefully Bruce lowered himself down next to him, gathering him up in his arms and Tony moved in instinctively, wrapping himself around Bruce’s body easily. Bruce looked down at the man in his arms, an easy smile on Tony’s face as he lay against his chest, and he wondered if Tony could hear the way his heart was beating for him. Just for him. 

“You’re perfect, Tony,” he murmured as his fingers stroked across his face, through his hair, caressing him slowly, just letting him know he was there, watching over him, protecting him. “I love you. So much. More than you know.” 

He felt Tony’s arm constrict, locking more tightly around his waist. 

“Stay here,” he asked in a blissed out slur and Bruce smiled. 

“Of course,” he answered, always endeared by Tony’s post-scene sub state. “I always do.” 

“No,” Tony argued, his brows furrowing momentarily as he fought for what he wanted to say. “ _ Forever _ .”

“Of course,” Bruce repeated, his hand pulling through Tony’s hair. “As long as you let me.”

That seemed to satisfy him for a moment but then he seemed to realize something and he tried to sit up but Bruce held him still, chuckling at him. 

“Where are you going?” 

“There’s a box – a key,” he said, his eyes owlish as he tried to look up at Bruce. “For you.”

“A key?” Bruce asked, perplexed. 

But slowly it occurred to him what Tony meant by ‘forever.’ And he looked over at the end table and there was a little box there, what Bruce had thought was a misplaced cufflink box. And he licked his lips, feeling for a moment like he might start to cry but doing his best to hold it back. Tony had clearly thought about this before now, it wasn’t some request born out of vulnerability – it was real. But unlike when Nat asked him to move in with her, knowing that she wanted a family he could never give her – Bruce was ready. He and Tony – they were on the same page. They worked really fucking hard to be on the same page. And so he believed Tony meant it. Even more than that, he believed Tony knew what he was asking for when he asked it.

“Oh Tony,” Bruce said, kissing his forehead. “We shouldn’t talk about this now.”

“But I...?” His voice came out strained and sad and Tony was looking at him straight in the eyes, every bit of his soul bared for him and Bruce swallowed hard. Tony wanted him. No answer but ‘yes’ would suffice. And that... 

That was Tony touching him where it ached, reaching straight into his chest and twisting at his heart but – but it didn’t hurt. It felt like he was flying. It felt like he was falling but it was okay because Tony was there. Tony would catch him. Just like he caught Tony. 

“Okay,” he said as he let a smile unfurl on his lips. It was the only thing he could say, the only thing he wanted to say. “Pretty sure I'm the one who was supposed to get you a gift for your birthday but... yeah. Let’s move in together.”

"Best gift," Tony beamed up at him, closing his eyes again once he heard it and snuggling back deep in his chest and still – Bruce disagreed. Tony had given him the best gift. He might not have known what he was looking for when he met Tony, but somehow he ended up with everything he’d ever wanted.


	13. Bonus Content!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A retelling of chapter six from Tony's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the wonderful [xYoSa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xYoSa/pseuds/xYoSa), a retelling of chapter six from Tony’s perspective. ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡ 
> 
> I honestly don’t normally write things like this because all the dialogue is pinned in for you and you have to work around it and it’s hard to make it organic and interesting for the opposing character BUT... I seem unable to actually let this fic go so it was pretty easy to eventually give in to this idea. Hopefully I did a decent job and it's still interesting. If not, well! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Fuck but Tony was excited for tonight. It was – well. Truthfully, it was embarrassing for someone of his age and experience so he pretended like he wasn’t. But then as he sat through brunch at the Bar Association’s monthly fete, Bruce’s vague instruction about not masturbating was threatening to send him straight to the bathroom to do exactly that. How was he supposed to sit there and schmooze when he knew Bruce was planning any number of ways to take him apart tonight?

Bruce was like no one he had ever been with before – which was saying something because Tony had been with  _ a lot _ of people. They had only been together what – three times? But Bruce was quickly becoming the only Dom he was interested in seeing. And not because he was harboring some kind of fucked up crush on him because that was – well. That was another thing that was too embarrassing to contemplate for someone of his age and experience. 

But Bruce was – he didn’t have to hurt him. Not that – well. Tony liked pain, he really did. A lot. But not just for it’s physicality. Pain was a quick way of setting up a very clear line – he was nothing, a thing to be used and abused. Yeah, he was aware of how fucked up it was that he wanted that, wanted someone else to treat him like nothing, the way he had been treated all his fucking life – but there was comfort in the known, right? 

And he expected, when Bruce tied him to that spreader bar, that he was going to smack the shit out of him and take him down to where his body hurt worse than anything in his brain and he could zone out for a while – but he didn’t. He didn’t have to hit him at all. Instead he – God. Tony felt like a fucking kid again, like it was his first time being fingered. The way Bruce worked at his ass like he was going to make him cum from that was unreal. He wasn’t gentle exactly but it also didn’t it hurt, it – it was... 

Just thinking about it made him harder than he wanted to be, especially given he hadn’t touched himself in nearly three days. 

Okay buddy, get your shit together, he grumbled to himself. This was ridiculous. 

But it was hard not to lose himself in thoughts of Bruce and the way he tasted with ice cream on his lips and the way he felt under his hips in that plush chair in his office and how he was perfectly content to cuddle in bed when Tony asked him to even though it wasn't, well...  _ whatever _ . And just – 

A crush. Of all dumb things. Who had  _ a crush _ at thirty-four?

“Are you going to the golf course after this?” Richards asked and Tony was so deeply lost thinking about Bruce that it took him a minute to even process what the other man had said. 

“Oh – no, I’m not,” he said after a moment, flashing back a self-confident grin. “I have actual work to do, you know. Clients. Remember those?”

Richards scoffed as Tony took a sip of his scotch. “You don’t hire enough people to do your work for you.” 

“No one can do what I do,” Tony shot back as Richards rolled his eyes. 

“Your ego is truly boundless – which isn’t a compliment, though I’m sure you’ll take it as one.”

Tony laughed out loud. “From the esteemed Reed Richards.”

He didn’t take the bait though. Which was probably good. He wasn’t in for one of Richards’ patented ‘I’m old and I know more than you’ speeches. What he was in for was – well. Getting dicked down by Bruce in whatever obscene way he was imagining. 

When he was finally able to get out of there he found being home was even worse. Bruce agreed to be there at six thirty and Tony could barely focus on his work. He – he fucking  _ cleaned _ for fucks sake. Not a lot – he had a maid for that – but still. He picked up the clothes strewn around the floor for his laundry order and he tidied up the bathroom counter and he checked his stock of lube and condoms by the bed. And then he would get pissy at himself for acting that way and return to his office to stare at paperwork he could barely comprehend until he thought of something else he could tidy and that would kick off the whole cycle all over again. 

But then, just over an hour before Bruce was supposed to be there, Wanda’s name came up on his screen and he stared at the ceiling and cursed God to strike him down if it was anything at all more than some dumb question about the timeline.

“Mr. Stark? I really need your fucking help.”

Tony took a second to chew over all the things he wanted to say and swallow them down before responding. At least it was Wanda. He could curse with Wanda. He never worried that being straight with her might hurt her feelings. 

“What? I’ve got an appointment tonight.” 

“I’m with Harley right now and he says he wants to confess.” 

Tony could physically feel his heart rate start to climb. 

“Confess to  _ what _ ? Last I checked he’s not fucking guilty.”

“Yeah, that’s what he says,” Wanda shot out, her speech picking up speed with each word that fell from her lips. “But he thinks it’s just going to be easier not to fight it, to agree to what they’re saying and he’ll get out.” 

“Agree to fucking armed robbery and extortion?” Tony could feel how badly he wanted to shout as he stood and pounded his fist down into the table. 

“I know! He’s just – he’s really scared and he wants to go home and he won’t fucking listen to me!” Wanda was getting panicked now. This was literally the worst case scenario for any defense lawyer and she was just an intern. “I keep telling him he’s not going to be able to go home just because he agrees with what the cop says but he's started crying and now I don’t know what to do.” 

“Jesus fucking  _ Christ _ ,” Tony growled as he rose from the chair stiffly, his stupid fucking leg acting up on top of all of this. “I’ll go down there. Have him keep his idiotic mouth shut until I get there, okay?”

“I’ll try but –”

“Did I say  _ try _ ?” Tony asked, knowing his voice was verging on too mean but entirely too far gone to give half a shit. “I believe what I said was ‘have him keep his idiotic mouth shut until I get there.’ I didn’t invite discussion.”

“I – yes, sir.” 

“Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as possible and I swear to God Wanda, if he’s talked to the cops when I get there, you’re fired.”

Tony hung up before she could argue as he slammed around his house, getting on his shoes and a jacket and finding the keys to the Cayenne. He knew he was going to have to call Bruce but man, he was not in the fucking mood. What he wanted – fuck. He paused for one brief moment in the doorway and took a breath. Why was he acting like such a  _ baby _ ?

This is what he was  _ good _ at. This is what he  _ thrived _ on. This is why he loved being a lawyer. Yeah it was inconvenient as all fuck but he loved to swoop in and save the day. He loved to put together the puzzle pieces no one else could. He loved to win, of course, but he loved all the shit that went along with it. It had never bothered him before to have to drive across the city to talk a client down. This is what he was good at. Sex was just – it had always been secondary. And here he was, about to throw a pissy fit over not getting one night of unknowns with a man he’d been on a singular formal date with? Good fucking God. Maybe it was better this way. 

But as he settled into the car and pulled up Bruce’s number, it sure didn’t feel like that. Still, he took a few more deep breaths and tried to push it aside. He wasn’t going to let himself look like a pathetic little boy for anyone – certainly not Bruce fucking Banner.

“Hello?” 

The warm innocence in Bruce’s voice nearly did him straight in though. One damn word and all the blase indifference Tony had built up in his mind disappeared in an instant. He wanted Bruce. He  _ wanted _ him. He didn’t want to cancel. He wanted to stomp his feet and protest and drive up to Bruce’s place instead. But he was a bigger man than that. He was a man, afterall. 

“I can’t do tonight,” he said with a gratuitous sigh. “My fucking client is about to make the biggest mistake of his young dumb life if I don’t get over there right now and talk him down.”

There was silence on the other end for a moment and then a soft – “I understand.”

“I just really fucking – Christ,” Tony muttered out, frustration mounting and making him tongue tied. “I’m sorry – I warned you. I’m not a fun guy to date.”

“Hey, it’s fine – really. I completely understand.”

Goddamn it, Tony cursed in his mind. Why was Bruce being so fucking reasonable? It was really making it hard for him to maintain his pissy attitude when Bruce was so... so accommodating. 

“I’ll wave at your apartment as I pass,” Tony said at last as slid onto the on-ramp for the highway. 

It was kind of a shitty thing to say but then Tony was kind of a shitty person. He wanted Bruce to be more upset. He wanted Bruce to be as frustrated as he was. Of course, Bruce was a damn good Dom so what was he going to do? Pitch a fit and yell like an amateur? Tell him he wasn't allowed to do his actual fucking job? Some might have tried it but realistically – Tony would have laughed in their face.

Still – Tony wanted Bruce to be upset. Maybe not Bruce the Dom but... Bruce. The Bruce who brought him sushi and ice cream and sat at his table with him and made sure he was okay after a difficult scene. The Bruce that sent silly little responses to his texts and drank tea instead of coffee and ran back to the car for one last kiss. Couldn’t  _ that _ guy act like he cared a  _ little _ that Tony was canceling their play date?

“You could come here,” he offered tentatively and Tony was so caught up in his personal meltdown that he didn’t even register what Bruce had said.

“What?” 

“I know your place is at least twenty minutes from here,” Bruce explained, “so he must be across town if you’re passing by here. If it doesn’t take as long as you are expecting and you still wanna, you know,  _ play _ – then just come by here.”

Tony stared at the console, having no idea what to say to that. 

“I appreciate that but I have no idea what kind of shitshow I’m walking into and –”

“I know,” Bruce interrupted, his voice still infuriatingly calm about the whole thing. “I’m not trying to pressure you at all. I’ve got plenty to occupy myself with on a Sunday night without you.” 

Tony huffed. Really? That was fucking cruel. Why not add heaping insult to personal injury. 

“Just, you know,” Bruce continued, “if it works out. If you want to. But I’ll assume you’ll just text me to reschedule later in the week.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know,” Tony said and disappointed didn’t even begin to cover how he was feeling at that moment – though he added in for good measure, “thanks for being so cool about it” – even if he didn’t feel that way at all.

“Of course,” Bruce assured him as he hung up and then Tony punched the steering wheel. 

Not only did he have to miss out on seeing Bruce as well as the much needed relief of letting Bruce have his way with him – but then Bruce had to be a perfect fucking gentleman about it too. God fucking dammit. What the hell was he even doing? He didn’t deserve someone like that. He wanted to have a full blown temper tantrum and here Bruce was, an actual fucking adult, telling him it would be okay like Tony was a child who’d just been denied his favorite flavor popsicle for another. And not a fucking banana one either another  _ good _ flavor just... not the one he  _ wanted _ . 

What business did he have having a crush on someone like that? 

He tried to force it aside though. They would just reschedule for next week. It would be okay. He would go home and jerk off and then he’d feel better. Maybe he’d jerk off in the jail bathroom just to make himself feel better about this whole thing. A big ol’ fuck you to the corrupt cops trying to force a confession out of a scared eighteen year old kid who vaguely matched the description given by an elderly woman from across the street and a camera feed of the back of some other guy's head.

The kid had at least stopped crying by the time he got there so thank God for small miracles or something. Wanda looked like she was on the verge of shrieking kumbaya at the top of her lungs if it would halt the cops from hearing anything Harley said but she managed to stop him from saying shit somehow so he wasn’t going to critique her methods tonight. 

“What the hell?” Tony said as he sat down across the desk from his client who had for some fucking reason been put back into questioning after Tony had told them no less than fifteen times that Harley was lawyered up and would not talk. “Mind telling me why the fuck I’m sitting at this desk right now?

Harley’s eyes welled up with tears and Tony sighed and thought maybe it would be better to take a different tact. 

“Okay, I get it – you’re scared, yeah? And they keep bringing you in here – illegally, I might add, they’re not supposed to be doing this and I am going to go scream my ass off at them, don’t you worry – and they keep telling you that if you just say what they want it will all go away. But buddy, I’ve been doing this basically as long as you’ve been alive – it will not go away.”

“But I didn’t  _ do _ anything. I wasn’t even  _ there _ .” 

Tony gave him a moment to cry into his hands and Wanda threw up her arms in aggravation, hurling a look of frustration his way but Tony couldn’t help it – he melted a little. He always did when it was a kid. It was just so hard to be mad at a kid. When he was eighteen? He didn’t know shit. Thought he did, sure, but it took his whole life being turned inside out before he had the vaguest damn idea of how utterly fucked up the world was. It was almost... cute that Harley still believed the cops were on his side here. Or it would have been cute – if it wasn’t going to get him incarcerated for half his damned life for something he didn’t even do.

“Listen to me, kid, okay? Your parents are paying out the ass for me to be here right now helping you because I know my shit so don’t throw all that money away for nothing,” Tony said slowly as Harley calmed down enough that he would actually be able to hear him. “The  _ only _ way this is going to go away is if we go to court and prove to them you weren’t there, okay?”

Harley was wiping at his eyes but at least he looked hopeful and so Tony took the time to go step by step through the entire process, exactly what they were going to do, his plan and where Harley would be and what was expected of him the entire time. And yeah, this step sucked, being in jail. It was a shitty, shitty step. But it was just a step and they would get through it. He just had to keep his mouth shut so Tony could get him through it.

By the time he left he had Harley laughing and that, at least, was a good sign. And then he had Wanda go with him to remind the cops they weren’t supposed to be harassing his client now that he had legal counsel and that if he found out they'd pulled this shit again he was going to cause such a scene they would be begging to be fired. Then he stormed out to the parking lot, limping half the way until he reached his car and kicked his good leg into his tire, nearly falling as Wanda watched from about ten feet behind him, unsure of what to do as she watched her boss parade around like a petulant brat. And Tony thought his night sucked.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered as he turned around and sank down on the hood of his car. “What time is it?” 

“Eight,” she replied, approaching him slowly as he took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down.

He looked over at her, her youthful expression of awe and fear, and stupidly it made him feel better. Nothing like being looked at like you were someone’s idol when you were acting like a little bitch. 

“You are so good at this,” she said at last. “I didn’t even think about that – that they weren’t even supposed to be questioning him. I’m sorry I fucked up your night. I just... I didn’t know what to do.” 

“Hey.” Slowly Tony’s anger began to slip away as she spoke and now he was left with nothing but simmering ash and that was okay. It was better. “You did good. You called me. You did what you were supposed to do.” 

“But I –”

“Look, don’t feel guilty, okay? I was just...” Tony stopped and grinned and then started laughing and she looked completely lost for a minute but oh my God was he a walking fucking disaster or what? 

“You were just...?” she asked as he caught his breath and he smiled over at her. 

“I shouldn’t tell you, it’s probably sexual harassment,” he teased, knowing Wanda hated to be teased with withheld information.

“Mr. Stark, you threatened to fire me a couple of hours ago,” she pointed out, frowning and crossing her arms over her chest, making her blazer pinch funny.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized instantly but then she was grinning at him. 

“It’s okay. I know you can’t really fire me – you need me too much.” 

For a moment Tony was truly proud of her. 

“Damn right, perfect response. You’re learning something from me after all.”

“So what was it then?” she asked, her eyes teasing and Tony paused a minute and then said fuck it, she was an adult too – albeit a young one.

“I was gonna get laid.”

Wanda looked at him a moment like she couldn’t even believe that was what he said and then she started laughing again. 

“You’re telling me you can’t go for a booty call at eight o’clock on a Sunday night?” she asked skeptically. “Because if that’s the case, I don’t want to get old.”

Tony rolled his eyes. He was very,  _ very _ sure he could hop on Grindr and get several offers right then and there it was just... he didn’t want any old ‘booty call.’ He wanted Bruce. 

“Well, he’s that vegetarian, save-the-world, professor type – I don’t want to cut into his beauty sleep or anything.” 

She wrinkled her nose at that. “Really? That... doesn’t seem like your type.” 

“Oh?” Tony chuckled. “What’s my type?” 

“I don’t know,” Wanda defended hopelessly, laughing and shaking her head like she knew this conversation was a lost cause. “Not... that. He must be a pretty good fuck.”

“Okay, now  _ that _ is surely sexual harassment!” Tony said, digging his keys out of his pocket. “But I mean – yeah. He’s a pretty good fuck.”

“Then _go_ _get it_ Mr. Stark,” she said, pushing his shoulder affectionately. “I’ll hold down the fort here.”

“Okay but – if you call me I can’t promise I’m going to pick up this time.”

“Oh my god, you’re an  _ old man _ ! Stop.” 

“Old man?” he said, offended as she pressed her fingers to her ears. “I’m not an ‘old man!’” 

“La-la-la – I’m not listening to old man sex.” 

“ _ You _ stop!” he laughed and her hands fell to her sides as she gave him a too-affectionate smile. 

“Seriously. I got it. Go have fun.” 

“I’m never hiring kids again,” he muttered as he walked around to the driver’s side and she stepped away, waving at him as he pulled out. 

Honestly, it was pretty fucking embarrassing how badly he just really, really wanted to see Bruce. He didn’t think Bruce would turn him away but it was true, he was somewhat hesitant to show up at his place. Even though Bruce had suggested it, he had also sounded so... okay with the prospect of not seeing him that Tony was conflicted. Never, ever had he been in the position where he wanted someone more than they wanted him and he didn’t like it. At all. So he was really quite tempted not to show up out of spite. 

But then as he approached Bruce’s exit he just... couldn’t make himself drive past it. He wanted it too badly. Not even the sex just. Bruce. He wanted Bruce too badly. 

He parked in the street and buzzed the box, waiting for Bruce to answer, his heart nearly failing when he got no response. Maybe Bruce really was asleep. Maybe he did have something better to do. Maybe –

Then the door to the building fell open and Bruce was standing there with a know-it-all grin on his face and Tony didn’t even care. He flung himself through the door and wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him hard and thoroughly. 

“You knew I was going to come,” Tony accused and Bruce just smiled softly. 

“I hoped.”

God –  _ fuck _ ! What kind of stupid, romantic, ridiculous thing was that to say? Tony smacked his lips back against his, holding him close. 'I hoped.'  _ Hoped _ . Christ – Tony was pretty sure Bruce didn’t even know what he sounded like when he said things like that. 

“Come on,” Bruce said quietly as he pulled away, clearly expecting him to circumnavigate that ridiculous number of stairs with ease even though his knee ached just looking at them – but Tony grit his teeth. He’d be damned if he was going to let a few flights of stairs defeat him after all that. 

Halfway up though he couldn’t help but mutter out, “Christ – I knew this building was old but you walk up these stairs every day?” 

“Sometimes more than once a day,” Bruce teased, laughing, and Tony knew he didn’t know about the accident or how bad his leg really was and that was the price paid for not being open with people, but... he couldn’t help feeling sensitive about it.

But then they were in Bruce’s apartment and Tony was absolutely overcome with how... homey it was. There were so many plants. And just... so many  _ things _ . Books and records and antique looking furniture. It was nothing like his own modern, sterile apartment at all. Instantly made him feel... cozy, like some weird metaphysical hug from Bruce himself. He had never been in a place like that before. 

Well – that wasn’t exactly true. It was a lot like his father’s study. It was so classic and austere, so  _ him _ . It smelled like sweet tobacco and leather and Tony used to sneak in there when his dad was out of town or coming home late too many nights in a row and curl up on the leather armchair and stare and wonder if his dad had really read all those books and if he would read all those books himself when he was old.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” Tony said at last, unsure  _ what _ to say. 

“Well, I’ll tell you, this is pretty good for my illustrious salary,” Bruce joked and then Tony grinned, punching him in the shoulder. 

He could tell that Bruce was maybe a little sensitive about it but – Tony truthfully hadn’t meant it that way. Yeah, it was small, but it was also... Bruce. And he liked Bruce. A lot. So of course he liked it. 

“It’s just – so warm,” Tony confessed, feeling stupid, but at least Bruce laughed then.

“Do you want something to drink? Or...?” he offered but it was late and he was tired and there was only one thing on his mind and it wasn't talking over a glass of wine. 

“I’m good,” Tony confirmed, gripping the handle on his overnight bag that contained a douche and other potentially necessary... accessories. “But could I use your bathroom?” 

“Of course,” Bruce said, pointing it out to him, tucked beneath another fucking staircase that lead to the lofted bedroom area. 

Tony stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind him, taking a deep breath and then noting how even the bathroom was all Bruce. A bunch of little porcelain knick knacks under the mirror on the vanity – a frog, a toadstool, a cat, a fairy – and a large technical drawing of aloe framed and hung on the wall in the absence of an actual plant and a cream colored shower curtain with a waffle pattern. It smelled like vanilla and lavender unintentionally and Tony let himself be calmed by it. He was already full of nervous anticipation just  _ being _ here. Ridiculous. He was better than this. He was...

He was fucking smitten is what he was. But he shoved  _ that _ aside and opened his bag.

Tony didn't always douche. To be completely honest, he didn't really like to. But sometimes – when he was going to a party or he knew he was going to be in a particularly intense scene – it just made sense. And he sure wasn't going to take his chances tonight. He already told Wanda he wasn't picking up and if Shuri called him well... he wasn't too sure he'd pick up for her, either. Whatever Bruce was planning he was hoping it was going to take a nice long time and he'd be too fucked out to think let alone worry about anything as insignificant as bodily function.

Still, it felt weird to do it here in Bruce's bathroom and he hoped Bruce didn't notice or wonder about how long he was taking. But Bruce seemed like the kind of guy that wouldn't ask, and even if he did ask, well... There was really no reason to be embarrassed. Tony was trying to do him a favor here.

When he finished and stepped out of the bathroom Bruce was headed down from the loft and Tony took the opportunity to do what he’d been trying to do downstairs and he wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck and pulled him in for a long, lingering kiss. 

“Not to be – whatever,” Tony said as he put a little distance between them, “but do you think you could change this depressing music?”

Bruce laughed at him but he obliged easily. As much as Tony didn’t want him to move away, the speaker set up he had was pretty intense and the music was everywhere and he wasn’t exactly sure he was going to be able to fuck to... that. That orchestral, choral... stuff.

“‘Anthem’ isn’t depressing,” Bruce argued as he picked something else from his large collection. 

“Well he does have a sexy voice,” Tony teased though honestly, it wasn't a lie. 

“Okay, no more Leonard Cohen for you,” Bruce laughed as Tony put his hands on his waist from behind and watched as he put a different album in. 

It still wasn’t anything he was expecting but it was better than what was on before, a deep bass line with synthetic sounds over top and as Bruce led him up the stairs a warm, mellow woman’s voice filled the small apartment. 

_ When you want me baby, yeah – just call me... _

Bruce pulled him into a deep kiss when they reached the top of the landing and Tony let himself melt completely against him. He could feel Bruce’s hands on his body as he tugged up his shirt and slid his hands up under it and fuck, okay – this was worth it. So worth it. Bruce’s hands were soft and warm and as horrifically embarrassing as it was, Tony was about one more kiss away from just falling apart right there. 

“Your client isn’t going to call, is he?” Bruce whispered against his lips as he undid Tony’s belt and Tony tried to keep his shit together long enough to make it to the bed.

“No,” Tony breathed back, “he’s supposed to call Wanda first. She couldn’t get him to listen tonight but I’ll fucking murder anyone who –”

“Shh,” Bruce pressed as he kissed him again and while there was little Tony liked more than the sound of his own voice, he was perfectly happy to shut up for Bruce as his pants fell to his feet. 

“What do you want?” Bruce asked, his voice soft and firm, and Tony could barely breathe. 

Bruce had asked him that every time and at first, Tony thought he had to have the right answer, that he needed to say something that would please Bruce, that he’d get punished otherwise. But the more Tony got to know Bruce the more he realized there was only one answer Bruce really wanted and only one answer he really wanted to give. 

So he exhaled against Bruce’s lips, a full-bodied thing that was like his soul leaving as he breathed out – 

“Dominate me.”

And it was obvious Bruce liked that reply most of all as he kissed him hard, dragging his clothes off slowly piece by piece. Each piece was removed with kisses against his chest and his shoulders and his ribs and he was kissed and kissed and kissed until Tony could do nothing but stand there breathing deeply and feeling completely worshipped. 

Bruce sat him down on the bed and cupped his face with one hand, stroking his thumb across his cheekbone, and Tony just stared up at him. And as he stared he realized something he knew but had never allowed himself to think in such direct words before – there was nowhere else he would rather be than staring up into Bruce’s eyes and feeling like the center of his entire world. 

“This is going to take some time,” Bruce told him softly as he dropped a few hanks of rope down beside him. “I need you to tell me if anything is too tight or you are uncomfortable because you’re going to be in these ties for a while.” 

Tony nodded as a shiver traced down his spine and he felt his brain skip as he considered what Bruce said. 

“Tell me,” Bruce commanded a little more firmly. “I need you to communicate with me, okay?” 

“Yes,” Tony said, barely able to force the singular word past his lips as his chest was so tight with anticipation.

“Tell me immediately if your hands start going numb,” Bruce said as he picked up the longest rope off the bed and settled himself in behind him and Tony took a few quick breaths, trying to get some control of his brain back now that Bruce wasn’t standing right in front of him. 

He just. He really,  _ really _ wanted to be good for Bruce. In a way he'd honestly never felt before. He'd thought he had but it was like... Thinking the only chocolate in the world was Hersey's then experiencing Godiva. Wanting to be with Bruce was a sharp craving in his belly that ached and ached and he never knew it could feel this way. That he could be this needy. That desire could be this intense.

“I’m pretty experienced but you know your body better than me,” Bruce explained and Tony couldn’t help but smirk.

“Not for long,” he teased lamely, trying to maintain some piece of himself before he lost it to Bruce completely, and he could hear a huff of a laugh behind him.

Bruce was so careful with him as he lay his arms together behind his back, placing knots and asking him to squeeze his fingers to check his circulation after every so many wraps around his shoulders and neck. He felt – he felt so  _ special _ to have such careful attention paid to him. He'd been tied up an innumerable number of times but as with everything with Bruce, no one had ever treated him like  _ this _ before. Every move Bruce made was so deliberate, so gentle, and he kissed the back of his neck as he brought the rope around his shoulder.

“I want to take care of you,” Bruce said as he made wraps and knots around his chest. “And I want you to be comfortable too.” 

Tony just sat very still, listening to the sound of Bruce’s voice, the ethereal music, feeling him make knots in the rope, and Tony knew he wouldn’t be able to get out now but he couldn’t have cared less. Then he heard Bruce chuckling at him and he opened his eyes, realizing he’d slowly been leaning forward. 

“Sit up straight,” Bruce said firmly and Tony repositioned himself, letting Bruce finish up the back. 

For a moment Bruce got off the bed to inspect his handiwork and more easily access his chest as he finished off the harness. Tony could look down and see the black rope against his skin, twisted around into a beautiful Y down the center of his chest, right between his pecs, and fuck – that looked nice. Really nice. He felt – he felt proud to wear it. 

It was nothing he was expecting, this feeling. He put on that hishi karada himself and he felt proud of that, sure. And – if he were honest with himself – he really got off on that. Doing something special for his Dom. Thinking of Bruce every time he sat down or shifted or felt the ropes in his sides or his ass. 

But  _ this _ ? This was something entirely different. This was – fuck. Bruce did this to him,  _ for _ him. Bruce imagined him tied up like this, wanted him this way, and then wrapped him up slowly, with such careful precision, into this beautiful harness and he – 

It was too much. Already Tony could hardly think. The way Bruce was staring at him, like he was something special, something perfect, something worthy. Tony could barely breathe.

Then Bruce went in for the kill.

“You’re beautiful,” he told him so fucking sincerely as he pulled him forward a little by the ropes and it was too much, entirely too much to be told  _ that _ like  _ that _ right  _ then _ and no matter how much Tony wanted to please him, he couldn’t even look at Bruce right then. 

His face burned as he looked away but Bruce didn’t seem to care. So, so gently he grasped Tony's face in his hand, palming his cheek as he placed a kiss against his other cheek and then nosed his ear, his lips whispering over it. 

“Beautiful,” he repeated, right in his ear where he couldn’t hide from it and Tony’s breath caught painfully in his chest as Bruce pressed him back into a bevy of pillows. 

Bruce took his leg and moved it gently so that it was bent up against him and then he picked up another skein of rope and – holy shit. This was it. This was how he was going to die. From unintentional asphyxiation as he lost the ability to breath. Paramedics would come in and he’d be wrapped up in black rope and the questions they would ask Bruce – 

“Is this okay?” Bruce asked and Tony’s mouth fell open and he wasn’t sure he was going to get a word out but he managed.

“Yeah,” he breathed, watching Bruce as he began to wrap rope around his leg and dear fucking God he was not kidding at all when he said this was going to take some time. 

“I’m going to dominate you,” he told him casually and Tony felt his heart leap in his chest. 

Bruce wasn’t even looking at him. He didn’t have to. Tony was  _ his _ – in every sense of the word. He  _ was _ going to dominate him? Bruce already fucking had. Tony was lost – so lost. He could only lay there and imagine how it would feel to be completely restrained, completely at Bruce’s mercy. He didn't need pain to make Tony feel the way he wanted to feel. He just slowly, slowly stripped away all of his hard won control. And somehow – fuck. Somehow he made Tony want to give it all to him.

“You’re not going to be able to move,” he continued and Tony couldn’t even watch any more. His head fell back into the pillows behind him as his mind seared with flagrant curses. This was too much, too much, too much – 

“You're just going to have to lay there and take it,” he added and Tony’s teeth ground together as his fists clenched because Bruce wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t know. But to have it said aloud, his intentions clear? Oh  _ fuck _ . Tony felt like he was going to lose his load right then and there.

“And you’re going to cum for me, over and over again,” Bruce said as he made one last tie and Tony gasped.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he moaned, unable to keep the concern from that singular cry and he lifted his head to look at Bruce. “I – I can’t.” 

Tony wasn’t exactly inexperienced. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. He knew prostate orgasms were something some guys could achieve and damn if he didn’t want one but – he had never been able to cum without ejaculating or blow past his refractory time like some guys. And he just – God. It sounded stupid when he thought about it with actual words because this was his body after all, this was his experience too but – he just really,  _ really _ didn’t want to disappoint Bruce. 

But Bruce – fuck him. All he did was flip off a casual “we’ll see” and look at him like all of Tony’s concerns were irrelevant and he – he didn’t even know how to respond. 

So Tony just bit down hard on his lower lip and closed his eyes again. His hands worked nervously at the pillowcase beneath him as Bruce worked his other leg into a bent position as well and finally Tony had to look at him again. 

“This one?” Bruce asked cautiously and Tony tried to force a laugh but it came out more like a sigh. Yeah, it would have been nice to have two working legs for Bruce to play with, but Obie fucked that one up for him a long time ago. 

“Just – looser,” Tony explained as he took over, tucking it in to where his range of motion stopped. “I was in a car accident a long time ago and it’s – it’s held together with pins and prayers.”

Bruce didn’t press. Tony loved that he never pressed. So many people wanted to dig into his back story, learn about his scars – people he just met, people who didn’t have the right. But Bruce? He took his time. Took his time getting to know him the same way he took his time wrapping him up now. He tested him slowly, found his edges, made sure he was comfortable, asked just enough of him to make him feel cared for but still respected. Their meeting was circumstantial but everything about Bruce was so deliberate. There was no way Tony would ever have been able to stop himself from falling for that. 

Carefully, carefully Bruce spread his legs when he’d finished binding them up and Tony could do nothing but let him. There was nothing else he wanted to do. He was incapable of moving, completely incapacitated by Bruce’s steady hand. It was – there was a lump in his throat as he watched Bruce move from the bed to gather whatever else he needed because all he could do was watch. And that was – that was all Bruce wanted from him. That was all he needed to do to please him. Bruce had promised him – he was going to dominate him. And that was all Tony wanted. 

Slowly he stroked one teasing finger across Tony’s stomach and he jumped at the sensation. It was too much, too ticklish, and his abs flexed and shuddered but Bruce knew what he was doing as he ran it back again. Eventually Tony began to sink into the sensation of just that one finger tracing patterns across his skin and he relaxed into it. What Bruce wanted from him was easy. He could do this. It felt good, even just this little bit of contact, and he trusted that Bruce wanted him to feel good. 

“Your skin never recovers from that kind of trauma,” Bruce said softly as he ran his finger against the scarring where Tony felt nothing. “The nerves never grow back right.”

Tony didn’t say anything but then Bruce’s fingers trailed all together down to his hips and – oh fucking  _ God _ – just barely brushed past his dick and that was cruel. He breathed in hard, wanting nothing more than for Bruce to touch his dick, but he’d denied him. 

“But you feel it – don’t you?” Bruce murmured and he let his stupid, nimble fingers move down between Tony’s spread legs, down across his inner thighs, to the outside of his ass and Tony’s dick ached with how badly he wanted to be touched there. 

“You want it,” Bruce continued easily, like he could keep this up all night, as Tony’s muscles tensed in anticipation, wanting nothing more than for him to go lower again.

“ _ Fuck _ yeah I do,” Tony sighed because  _ fuck _ yeah, he really,  _ really _ did. 

“You know?” Bruce said as at last he trailed his finger lightly up the crack of Tony’s ass and it was all Tony could do not to cry out as he barely brushed his balls. “I own you.”

That was fucking it. If he had come right then well – who could have blamed him? But the lack of stimulation made that impossible and instead he just shuddered – hard. There was nothing in that moment he wanted more than to be completely, utterly possessed by Bruce. 

This? This was already so much more than anyone had ever given him. He was pretty sure that if Bruce slapped him right now he wouldn't even feel it because this? This was death by pleasurable degrees and he –  _ god fucking hell _ – he didn’t know if it wasn’t  _ worse _ . 

“Relax,” Bruce commanded as if that was something Tony could just  _ do _ as worked up as he was.

But he tried as Bruce began to massage his ass firmly. And he moaned as he spread his legs further and further for Bruce so that he could get more and more of his hands on him until his knees were practically touching the bed – spread wide and wanton for him. 

“Breathe,” Bruce said as he ran his palms up the minimally exposed parts of his thighs, massaging them too, up to his hips, and Tony felt his stomach muscles clench and suck in as Bruce’s hands grew closer. 

“Breathe,” Bruce repeated and damn if Tony didn’t  _ try _ . 

“I’ve got you now,” Bruce said. “I own you. There’s nothing you need to worry about here.”

Tony tried so hard to do as he was told, tried to breathe deeply, to let Bruce’s firm touch ground him in the infinite moment he created with his hands. It wasn’t something Tony thought he was capable of before. Relaxing so completely with someone else,  _ for _ someone else. But Bruce – fuck. Bruce made him feel... Bruce made him feel  _ safe _ , made him feel  _ cared for _ . And so it was almost,  _ almost _ easy to fall into the feeling of Bruce’s hands cradling him, to let his legs sink into the bed, to let his dick hang hard and heavy and exposed over his stomach, to let his muscles relax completely. 

Bruce was here. Bruce had him. Bruce  _ owned _ him. There was nothing he needed to worry about here.

“Perfect,” Bruce told him as he positioned his hips a little higher and the thrill of relief he got from that praise was enough to keep him fed all year. “This is how I want you. Just like this.”

And then – oh fucking  _ CHRIST _ . Tony let out a long, loud, completely involuntary moan as Bruce’s tongue pressed hard and hot straight up against his ass. It was – aw  _ fucking hell _ – it was some carnal, sinful shit. Tony had been eaten out before but – not like this. Not with the kind of filthy concentration Bruce had on doing it  _ right _ . Fuck. He couldn’t help it, he was moaning and rocking his hips into Bruce’s face as Bruce sucked him hard and teased him with his tongue, pressing on those tight muscles like he was going to breach them and Christ, Christ,  _ Christ _ ! Tony couldn’t relax anymore, he couldn’t even  _ think _ . He could only whine every time his hips rocked and hope that Bruce didn’t care that he couldn’t stay still because it was too much to ask anyone when he was tongue fucking him like that. 

But then it stopped completely and Tony took a few quick breaths, trying to relax again but his dick was so swollen it ached and it was really,  _ really _ hard to calm down after  _ that _ . 

And then, when he finally managed to gain some semblance of sanity again, he felt Bruce’s fingers at his entrance. 

“Stay like this,” he coached softly and Tony wasn’t above praying if that’s what it took to accomplish the task. “Just feel it, okay? Let yourself go.” 

God help him, Tony tried. He was taking deep, even breaths as Bruce’s fingers entered him but dry like that with only his spit as lube? It was hard not to lose his shit completely. The friction hurt but the pain was exquisite as Bruce pumped his fingers slowly in and out, stretching him a little, carefully, really taking his time. And his other hand palmed over his thigh, letting Tony know he was still there, watching, letting him know he was doing a good job. 

And then Bruce found it, his prostate, and he muttered out a fuck as Bruce’s fingers glanced it carefully, watching for his reaction. Tony’s eyes cracked open and he looked at him. He was pretty sure he knew what Bruce was going for, that he thought he was going to be able to give him some kind of mind-blowing prostate orgasm or something but – 

“I’ve got you,” Bruce assured him and Tony let his eyes fall closed again and his head fall back and if Bruce wanted to try well – fuck if Tony was going to stop him. 

He pressed his free hand down on Tony’s hip as he hit it again and Tony couldn’t help the way his breath caught in his throat. It was a pretty intense sensation, made more so by the fact that he hadn’t come for a few days. But then – then. Then Bruce stopped fucking around and he left his fucking fingers there as he stroked it. 

“You’re mine,” he practically growled and Tony’s mouth fell open. 

It was –

There were no words for what it was. Bruce was holding him down as he rotated his fingers against that sensitive gland and he tried to focus on his breathing, tried to stay relaxed, he really fucking did, but between being tied up so sweetly and Bruce’s possessive growl there was nothing he could do. He was lost. Lost in the feeling of Bruce’s fingers in his ass and on his hips as he fought to rock against it and get more, more, more of that delicious sensation until – 

“Oh fuck,” Tony moaned as he pressed his head back further into the pillows, his brilliant mind reduced to being able to process one word and one word only. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh  _ god _ – fucking fucking –  _ fuck _ ...!”

He gasped and his hips jerked but Bruce never let go. Bruce followed him to where he couldn’t escape, his fingers refusing to break from him no matter how hard his body tried to fight it, and when he came he jerked and fought as pure sensation washed through him in shuddery waves and he was sure he came but – 

Bruce took his hand from his body slowly as he relaxed again into the bed beneath him, twitching with the aftershock, though he was still hard and full and heavy and just. 

His eyes opened and he blinked against the dim light, breathing deeply and trying to focus on Bruce’s face. 

“What the fuck did you do to me?” 

The question was soft and sounded stupid even to his own ears but Bruce just smiled at him and chuckled as he picked up a bottle of lube. 

“I told you,” Bruce said, so matter of fact, so open, so affectionate that Tony could only stare. “I own you. And I’m going to give you what you need.”

And then Bruce kissed him and it was – it was so tender and so sweet and so – so loving, if he’d let himself think it, that Tony could feel his sinuses ache with the desire to cry. How was he supposed to – to  _ deal _ with this? He wanted... 

He wanted to wrap his arms around Bruce as tightly as he’d bound him up and hold him close to his body forever. It was a ridiculous though, stupid, juvenile, immature, impossible but... he wanted it. He wanted it so damn bad. 

But then Bruce was pulling away and Tony felt the loss of him keenly – until he was sliding a vibrator into him and then well – all of Tony’s limited focus went towards that. And after a few minutes of fucking him with it, he arched it up so it hit his prostate again and – wow  _ fuck _ . 

“Too much!” The words left his mouth as soon as he thought them because he was so woefully oversensitive and he was trying to be good and relaxed but that was just entirely too much.

“It’s okay,” Bruce said, his voice maddeningly calm and soothing. “You’re okay. You’re going to take it for me, okay? You’re going to come for me again, okay?”

Tony wanted to laugh. Yeah the fuck right he was going to  _ come again _ . He – he’d never even orgasmed like that before and Bruce was just treating it like it was fucking easy. He could barely take the flat, silicone end of a vibrator right now and he was going to  _ come again _ .

“You just have to relax,” Bruce said. “Let yourself go. I’ll catch you. You’re safe here." The words sounded distant and far away but they reached him somewhere deep in his soul. "Remember – you can use your safe word whenever you want but – you’re mine. And I will catch you.”

_ Fucking goddamn Christ _ what the  _ entire hell _ was he supposed to do with that? There was – there was nothing  _ to _ do but lie there and accept it. Bruce... Bruce would catch him. That he knew. He shouldn’t trust it, shouldn’t believe it so early on in their relationship but... he did. Bruce was – fuck. Bruce was just so good. Too good. And he could only lay back and breathe deeply and trust that Bruce had him. Because he did. 

Bruce had him. 

“You’re mine,” he whispered so quietly Tony could barely hear him as he turned on the vibration. 

It wasn’t even a direct hit but the low, slow vibration rolled through his body in a way that made him whip his head back and groan. It was – it was too much but breathing helped and he tried to find a deep, dark place for his mind where he could take it, use it, come again, just like Bruce wanted. Just like Bruce wanted. He was going to come again, he was, because Bruce wanted it, and he wanted to do  _ anything _ he could to keep Bruce there like that, whispering such beautiful things to him, caring for him like – like he was worth it. 

But when Bruce tilted the vibrator up to hit his prostate directly he knew it was over, he was going to start crying. 

“Christ – I  _ can’t _ !”

“Relax,” Bruce told him firmly, holding his hip in place so he couldn’t escape the vibrator even if he’d tried. “Breathe.” 

It was difficult but he tried and actually, it helped. Taking deep, calming breaths as his body relaxed and adjusted to the nearly-too-painful sensation. And he was finally reaching a place he thought ‘okay, I can do this’ when Bruce clicked up the vibration. 

“You've got it, lovely,” he said as Tony whimpered and his hips began to rock again, feeling cum leaking painfully from his dick, strung out on the edge of another orgasm. “You can do this. You  _ deserve _ it. You’re so beautiful and you’re doing  _ so well _ . You’re always so good. Just let go, Tony, I’m here for you.”

How did Bruce say such beautiful things like that so easily? It was almost – it was almost like he  _ meant _ it. 

“I  _ can’t _ ,” Tony cried but Bruce was there, right there.

“You can,” Bruce assured him as he kissed his thigh and turned up the vibration one last time. 

“God,  _ fuck _ , I’m gonna –”

Tony’s whole body was on overdrive. It felt like – it felt like being spread out and baked in the sun, like being speared up through his whole body and wanting  _ more _ , like – like nothing he’d ever felt before. And Bruce was right there, ready to give it to him.

“That’s right, you can do it, cum for me handsome,” Bruce soothed and then pressed the vibrator up more solidly and ohhhhhhhhhh SHIT.

Tony had no idea what came out of his mouth as he shivered and jerked and cried out, every oversensitive nerve in his body working together to completely overwhelm him as he came again in that singularly alarming way – all rolling and ocean and surf and buzzing in his ears as it rocked through him until there was nothing left. 

He was done. Tony’s mind was nothing more than cotton fuzz and he didn’t know or care what sounds he was making or how his body reacted as Bruce slipped the vibrator from his ass. He could have laid there all night and it wouldn’t have mattered. Nothing mattered now. Bruce was holding him down and nothing mattered anymore. 

“Do you  _ know _ what it is you do to me?”

It was too much, hearing Bruce say it  _ that _ way. Like he – like he was worth anything at all. 

Bruce checked the bindings and pulled him back over onto his back again but Tony refused to open his eyes. He couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t look at Bruce and see the way he looked back like he was something precious, something special. He wasn’t. He really, really wasn’t and sooner or later Bruce would see that he just – 

“You are the most perfect thing,” Bruce said as if he was reading his goddamn mind and Tony whined because he couldn’t – he couldn’t... 

“You deserve to feel just as good as you make me feel,” Bruce continued and Tony couldn’t fucking take it. 

He couldn’t just lay there and listen to Bruce say these things like they were the truth or something. Him? Tony Stark? He was – he was a barely functional disaster. He wasn’t meant for – for  _ love _ or – fuck. It wasn’t even right to  _ think _ that word. Bruce needed to – he needed to stop this before it went too far and – 

“ _ Stop _ ,” he pleaded but Bruce didn’t – he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t understand? He only got closer, kissing his face, touching it with his fingertips like he was too precious and delicate for anything else.

“You are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” he whispered. “The most beautiful, the most charming, the most fun... Everything about you is perfect. You’re  _ perfect _ .”

Then Bruce kissed him on the mouth and Tony was... He knew he was shaking but God – what else could he do? Bruce made him feel like in some world, somewhere, even if only locked in his own head, those things _were_ true. That the veneer Tony painted for himself could also, maybe, in some ways actually  _ be _ him. He could be beautiful, he could be charming, he could be fun. Bruce made him feel like – like maybe, to Bruce, he  _ was _ perfect. 

“Look at me.” 

As much as Tony didn’t want to do that – wow, did Tony really fucking  _ not _ want to do that – he also didn’t want to disappoint Bruce in any way. Not when – not when Bruce thought he was perfect. 

“Let me fuck you. Let me show you how good you make me feel.”

“ _ Christ _ ,” Tony gasped, wanting desperately to look away again while trying in vain not to turn his head and disappoint Bruce. “You – you can’t – you can’t  _ say _ things like that.”

Bruce didn’t argue. Didn’t tell him to shut up or that he could say what he wanted. Didn’t tell him he was ridiculous or stupid or any of the other things he’d been told before. Bruce just kissed him. Kissed him like that was enough to prove otherwise. Kissed him like it wasn’t just words and that Tony really did make him feel that good. 

And when he climbed back between his legs and slid in he was – he was so kind, so sweet, so gentle, so firm. He pressed his mouth against Tony’s body, over and over, over his chest, his stomach, between the ropes, every little piece of skin he could reach and Tony was gone, gone, gone – so gone for him. 

He could only lay there and stare like it was a dream because – because it was. This wasn’t real life. This wasn’t something people felt – this feeling deep in his chest like it might explode if Bruce pressed just right. He’d never felt like this before in his life. Tony had trusted plenty of people to hit him and hurt him and tear him down – but he’d never trusted anyone to build him up like this. He didn’t even know how it happened. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to – 

It wasn’t supposed to feel like  _ love _ . 

And then Bruce slowed and he leaned over his body and he kissed him and maybe Tony was tied up in ropes and fucked twice already and it was clearly  _ not _ that but – but it was the closest to that silly dream of movie sex and soft, affirming touches and loving, careful movements and oh – what was he supposed to  _ do _ ? He could do nothing but lay there and let Bruce take him apart piece by piece until he was laying there broken in the best way. 

“Tell me. Tell me what you want,” Bruce said, firm and commanding. “You’re safe here. You’re safe.” 

Tony didn’t even know how he could articulate what he wanted because he – he had never wanted this before. Never. 

“Touch me,” he said at last. “Hold me. Just – just – I can’t –”

Instantly he felt better as Bruce stopped and lay his whole body down against his, holding him together as he verged on falling apart completely. 

“Fuck,  _ Bruce _ , I can’t –” 

Tony was trying, trying to articulate how he felt but his voice was failing him. The one thing he had, the one thing he’d always believed in, and he couldn’t even get the words through his throat. 

“I want you –  _ fuck _ . I want –” Tony swallowed hard and blinked back the tears threatening to fall even though he knew it was a lost cause at this point. “I want to be yours. T-tell me – tell me I’m yours.” 

“You’re mine,” Bruce answered just right, firm and honest and Tony let the first tears fall. 

Bruce’s hand slid down his body to his dick and Tony gasped as he wrapped his hand around it, firm and gentle, like he always was, so kind and in control. There was nothing else to say, nothing else to think about here. It was over. He had lost. He so rarely lost he didn’t even see it coming but – he lost. 

“I own you, Tony,” Bruce said, warmth washing through Tony with the rasp of his voice, “and I’m going to take care of you, for as long as you’ll let me.” 

Christ – he was close but – how was he supposed to resist that? In that moment he knew with overwhelming clarity that it was the truth. Bruce would take care of him. 

“Just like this. Because you’re mine. Because you’re mine and I cherish you.”

_ I cherish you _ .

The words rung like a death knell through his body. Everything, everything, the whole damn world was lost when he came, narrowed down to the pinprick accuracy of Bruce moaning his name and the feeling of him rolling his hips into Tony's body one last time as he lost all control. It was over, it was over, he was gone, gone, gone. He was Bruce's entirely – and in that moment that was all he ever wanted to be.

“My beautiful, beautiful man,” Bruce whispered as the tears started rolling down Tony’s cheeks in earnest because – oh god... 

Bruce was unwrapping him but he was so lost he couldn’t hope to focus on it as pitiful relief streamed down his face. His whole body ached not just with the release of the ropes but with how hard he’d been fucked and it felt – it felt so  _ good _ . Tony eased into the pain, letting the familiarity of it ground him, and Bruce rolled him over onto his stomach gently and he pressed his face into the pillow, trying to drag his body back in line and stop crying. 

“Fuck,” he murmured as his arms were unbound and he just lay there, a hypersensitive bundle of complicated emotions but he didn’t let himself think about any of that right now. 

He didn't let himself think about how kind Bruce was, how sweet. And he didn't think about about how little Bruce knew, how misguided he was. Tony wanted to believe that it didn’t matter, that what Bruce didn’t know about him meant nothing and that he was really going to take care of him forever no matter how broken he was physically and mentally and so he did. He let himself buy into that fantasy – if only for tonight. Because Bruce was there, laying next to him, stroking back the hair from his face softly, and he’d said it. He said that he would take care of him. No take backs. Even if he didn’t know what he was signing when he signed it.

Bruce’s cat came up and curled up against his arm and it tickled his oversensitive skin and Tony wanted to laugh. 

“Traitor,” Bruce accused in a teasing hiss and Tony chuckled. 

“He likes me already,” Tony tried, embarrassed by the way his voice sounded so fucked out but Bruce just twisted his fingers in his hair and pulled a little, pulling him close. 

“I like you more,” Bruce said, kissing him and Tony couldn’t help the way his lips curled into a smile. 

“Good,” he said, eyes closed. “Because I’m not going to be able to drive anywhere after that. But – can you get my phone?” 

He didn’t open his eyes because the absolute last thing he wanted to do was open them and break the spell, but he could feel Bruce move off the bed to retrieve it. 

“Can you just check my notifications? See if Wanda texted me? Or – fuck. If anything looks disastrous? I can’t...” 

Honestly work was the  _ last _ thing he felt like thinking about but if he didn’t  _ know _ that everything was okay then his mind was never going to let him relax about it. 

“Wanda is just thanking you for whatever you did and Shuri says she wants to meet with you before you see the judge tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” Tony muttered as he shifted to get up, unable to believe he forgot to set up an appointment for that himself but – he had been a  _ little _ distracted... all day. Which, was really a problem, honestly, he shouldn’t be letting Bruce distract him like that but... 

“It looks like she set up a meeting reminder for eight am? Do you want me to just approve it?” 

“Fuck –  _ yes _ . Do that,” Tony sighed, immediately sinking back into the pillows, glad he hadn’t risked opening his eyes and breaking the spell.

Tony felt Bruce set the phone down by his head where he could reach it easily and then Bruce slipped his knees over Tony’s hips and pressing his weight down on his ass and Tony wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. He was not physically or emotionally prepared for another round without a little more recovery time than that.

“Bruce.” His name came out like a warning but Bruce just laughed. 

“Relax,” he teased as he pressed his palms into his shoulders, running circles along his neck with his thumbs. 

_Aw_ _fuck_, Tony thought when he realized Bruce was going to give him a fucking back massage of all things. What part of Bruce wasn’t absolutely perfect? He was struggling to see a single thing that didn’t make him want to stay right there forever. 

“I’m never going to leave,” he told Bruce and Bruce leaned down to kiss his cheek like he had permission to stay as long as he wanted.

Too bad Bruce had no idea what he was even agreeing to. 


End file.
